


Sex Wizards: Mastery

by AletheaFaust



Series: Sex Wizards! [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Asexual Character, BDSM, Bath Sex, Blindfolds, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Warming, Consensual Sex, Consensual Somnophilia, Crossdressing, Cuckolding, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fantasy, Femdom, Flogging, Forced Feminization, Forced Masturbation, Forniphilia, Gags, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Needles, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgy, Overstimulation, Paddling, Painplay, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Rope Bondage, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sounding, Suspension, Threesome - M/M/Other, Tickling, Wizards, water sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 110,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26777686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AletheaFaust/pseuds/AletheaFaust
Summary: Magic is a rare gift, and it has been six months since Dominai of Airedale left his home and travelled to the Crux to study it. Unfortunately, Dominai's studies grind to a halt when he tries to switch from conduiting for spells to casting them. Every spell he casts comes out weak, but Arlon, the Grandmaster of the Crux, believes he knows of something that will help. While working closely with Arlon, Dominai is broken down and built back up to confront his own worst enemy: himself. Yet outside of the Crux, a threat builds that will rock the kingdom of Straetham to it's core, and could destroy the Crux from the inside out.*This is book 2 of a much larger series! Book 3 should become available later in 2021 so stay tuned!
Relationships: Dominai/Everyone
Series: Sex Wizards! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672045
Comments: 179
Kudos: 135





	1. Casting Block

**Author's Note:**

> WE'RE BACK! Y'all, I'm so excited, and I hope you are too. New chapters (21 of them!) will appear every Friday, BUT if you want to get access to chapters earlier, check out my Twitter for some BIG NEWS @AletheaFaust
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment or kudos if you've enjoyed!
> 
> Also, for reference, here is my magic cheat sheet (which is ever expanding as the story goes on!)  
> Abjuration (magic that blocks, banishes or protects) - rope bondage, control  
> Conjuration (magic that produces out of thin air) - masturbation, chastity, desperation  
> Divination (magic that gains the truth about the past, present, future) - body worship, edging, full sensory deprivation  
> Enchantment (magic that can entrance or beguile others) - humiliation, mindfuckery, hypnotism  
> Evocation (magic that manipulates energy and taps into energy forces) - pain play, impact play, temperature and sensation  
> Illusion (magic that controls and manipulates the senses) - sensory play/deprivation, drugging  
> Transmutation (magic that modifies matter) - roleplaying, objectification, forniphilia  
> Corpimancy (magic that controls forces of life, death and undeath, healing) - bloodplay, piercing, suspension, necrophilia (super duper forbidden)

The creak of the ropes is the only sound in the quiet casting room. I lay on the floor in the puddle of sunlight that shines in through the window. I get comfy, pillowing my hands under my head as I look up to admire my handiwork.

It’s a hell of a view. 

The neat harness of white ropes are a nice contrast where they bite against Galiva’s brown skin. Her head hangs, relaxed and limp. Her eyes are closed, lips parted and face serene. Her breathing is even and deep, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was asleep. With the long hours she’s been working, I’m glad to give her a little rope break. 

Besides, she’s so godsdamned beautiful that I’m having a hard time looking away from her, and with her trussed up as she is, I get to stare all I like.

Her arms are folded and tied behind her back, but I was careful when I did it. I made sure not to tighten the ropes over any pressure points or put any undue stress on her shoulders. All ropes attach to two sturdy metal rings that I used to cinch her up about three feet off of the ground. 

I reach up with my foot and give her a gentle nudge to get her swinging. Her brown eyes slide open and meet mine, a contented haze relaxing her features. I can’t help but smile at her obvious enjoyment. “Having fun?” I ask as my foot continues to rock her.

“Mmhmm.” 

I reach up and tug at one of her perky brown nipples. Framed by the ropes, her breasts look incredible. “How’s your neck? Want me to rig a sheet up?” I ask. It’s the only part of her that isn’t supported. I’m not about to wrap any ropes around her neck, but a sheet or scarf could be a nice little hammock for her head.

“You worry too much,” she says. “Rope suspension can only be so comfortable.”

“You’re the one who drilled that worry into me,” I point out. “All that talk about nerve damage and strangulation, straight up dropping someone on their _head-”_

“Alright, alright,” Galiva chuckles and lets her head hang down again. “I appreciate that you’re careful, but I’m fine, I promise.”

“Good,” I say and still her gentle swing. “Ready to come down?”

Galiva gives me a thoughtful look. “I know this was just supposed to be rope practice, but your rig is solid. I think you’re ready to cast.”

I blink up at her in surprise. In the past six months, Galiva and Olbric have eased me into casting. Abjuration spells, for the most part. Between the shifts she’s taken at the medical clinic in town, Galiva’s been nice enough to let me use her for some higher caliber rope practice, but I’ve never actually cast a mastery level spell like this. 

The idea sends a thrill of excitement through me, but worry comes hot on its tail. “You’re sure?” I ask as I stroke my thumb over her bottom lip. I like the idea of casting, but the nerves are hard to shake. I almost wish she’d say no.

Galiva pulls my thumb into her mouth and sucks, swirling her tongue around my digit. It sends a throb of heat straight to my groin, and when she opens her eyes again, they smolder. “Do I look like a wizard that’s unsure?” 

“Nope,” I say, my breath catching. “Seem pretty damn sure.”

I prop myself up on my elbows to catch her lips. I swallow her little whimper of need, and when I pull away, I leave her panting. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about casting with Galiva in the past few months is that once she’s under ropes, it doesn’t take much to get her riled up. 

I’m nervous, but I don’t want to disappoint her. I roll out from under her and scramble to my feet. The nerves don’t quite go away even as I recheck my rig. I’m careful as I grab the anchor rope and pull her up to a good height before tying it through the little ring set into the floor. 

I give her a little spin and can’t stop a grin as both her mouth and slit land right at my crotch. She squeals, but I stop her before she can get too dizzy. “That’s mean,” she chuckles, yet when I reach between her legs, she gasps.

Her slit is already dripping, and I grin as I push two fingers into her. She gives an eager little moan as she wiggles her hips as best as she’s able, begging with everything but words. It’s sexy as hell, and I can’t help but indulge her. 

I let her ride my fingers for a bit as I tease that sweet spot inside of her. When I slide my fingers out, the noise she makes is pure disappointment. She only has herself to blame, really - she’s the one who taught me what it is to tease someone to desperation. 

I lick my fingers clean, and the taste of her makes my cock swell in my trousers. I circle back in front of her, and she lifts her head to look up at me. I slide my fingers through her curly black hair, gripping gently at the roots to help her keep her head up. 

“Help a friend out?” I ask as I release my cock from my trousers. Galiva’s moan is answer enough, and she opens her mouth. I push in, and her tongue immediately starts to work around me. I grab the ropes with my free hand and pull her closer, sliding more of my length into the accommodating heat of her mouth. When I hear her quiet gag, I immediately pull back out.

“Alright?” I ask.

“Fucking hell, Dom, just face fuck me already,” she growls.

“Fuck - alright, alright!” I say before I thrust back into her mouth. I use the ropes to guide her further onto my length, thrusting shallowly. She moans before taking a breath as her throat loosens to accommodate me. I seat myself deep, feeling her nose brush my stomach. It’s nearly my undoing. 

I swear and pull out before she sets me off. Her head hangs with a quiet whimper, and when I tilt her chin up, I'm greeted by her glazed smile. Gods, she's in it pretty deep.

That face never ceases to send a thrill through me. Not only is this powerful wizard trusting me enough to cast, she’s relaxed enough to give control fully over to me. Yet at the same time, it always makes me extra aware of the responsibility that comes with casting. I feel the weight of it settle onto my shoulders, even as it softens my length a little. I find myself handling her a little more gently as I move behind her.

I pull out the little bottle of lotion from my pocket before going to the cabinet and finding a string of five round focuses. I slick them before I spread Galiva’s cheeks and ease them into her, one by one. She shivers as they settle in her ass, and I can’t help but give the string a little tug, threatening to pull one back out. I’m rewarded with a whimper of need.

It’s ambitious - I don’t think I’ve charged more than two focuses on lower caliber spells, but maybe this one will be different. Galiva is well and worked up, and I’ve got just the thing to keep her that way.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a little oblong focus. As soon as I touch it, it starts to vibrate between my fingers. I’d accidentally stolen it from Margeurite during one of our divination sessions, but fortunately the ovisari doesn’t seem in a hurry to get it back. 

I trail the little focus up between Galiva’s legs, brushing through her folds before I settle it against the hood of her clit. She cries out and tenses in the ropes, shaking with need.

I swear quietly, transfixed by the sight of her. Even bound and quivering, she’s beautiful. Maybe especially bound and quivering. I roll the little buzzer around and smile as she jerks and wiggles helplessly in the ropes.

I watch her closely to make sure the vibrations don't get to be too much. Casting divination has given me a knack for reading people, and I see the telltale tensing of her muscles, the way she bites her lip. I roll the buzzer off of her and am rewarded with a throaty wail. The ropes keep her legs spread, and I just barely brush the tip of my cock against her wet slit. The feel of her perks me right back up, but I don’t push in yet. 

“Dom, please!” she begs as she wiggles her hips, as if trying to coax me in. 

It works. I slide into her with a groan and she replies with a simpering moan of pleasure. Her walls clench around me, greeting me, and I can tell she’s already close. I glide deep into the wet heat of her slit and give a few experimental thrusts. She feels incredible, and I grab the ropes before pulling her onto me, snapping my hips to meet her.

Galiva wails, and I keep the pace up for a minute before I seat myself deep to let her cool down a bit. Though if I’m being honest, it’s a necessary cooldown for me, too. She wiggles her hips in invitation, and I can’t help but give her ass a little swat before I thrust deep again. 

I’m rewarded with a mewl of pleasure, but when I reach around and put the buzzer against her clit again, it turns to a scream. I speed up again and grab the ropes for leverage as my hips bump hers with every hard thrust.

Her orgasm builds slow, and I feel it as she tenses. When it crashes over her, she jerks in the ropes, her hips bucking against the little buzzer. She wails, throwing her head back as her body shudders with pleasure. I don’t let her finish before I take the string of focuses and pull. Galiva’s moan rattles out of her, her body jerking as each focus pops out.

I swear as my own end comes, and I yank the ropes hard. I seat myself deep as my cock empties into her, filling her willing slit. A moan makes it past my pursed lips, and I rest my head against the ropes.

For a second, I just stay there as we both pant in the afterglow. It takes a minute to get myself together before I ease out of her. She yelps as I pull the last focus free, but my pleasant buzz disappears when I only see two of the five glowing. I sigh and clean them off with a handkerchief before storing them in my pocket. 

“You’re alright?” I ask.

Galiva chuckles, and I hear the satisfaction in her voice as she says, “Fantastic.”

I can’t stop a smile before I go about freeing her. I untie her arms first out of habit - if something goes wrong, at least she’ll have some freedom to brace herself. Not that anything goes wrong. Even if I’m a dud at casting, I sure have gotten good at rigging. 

I lower her feet down and help steady her as she wavers. I make quick work freeing the rest of her from the rig before I start to unwind the rope harnesses. It takes a few long minutes to get it all off. When I do, Galiva drapes her arms around my shoulders and kisses my cheek.

I smile as I return the embrace. She always gets cuddly after conduiting, and I’m happy to oblige. I guide her over to the comfortable chair in the corner and pull her onto my lap. She settles against me, face nuzzled into the crook of my neck as I rub at the rope marks on her arms. For a few long minutes, I just hold her and let her ease back into herself.

When her eyes are a little clearer, she looks up at me and asks, “How’d we do?”

I pull the focuses out of my pocket. Two of them skitter with light, but the other three remain dim and uncharged. Galiva frowns as she looks at them. I pinch one of the glowing ones between my fingers. “That’s a fucking _mastery level spell,_ yet they still feel weak," I say through a sigh.

Galiva takes one of the focuses and rolls it in her palm. “You’re right,” she mutters, sounding perplexed. “It sure felt like it was strong.”

“It definitely wasn’t you,” I mutter. “I’m just… not right for casting. Maybe I should just stick to being a conduit.”

Galiva scowls and nestles back against my neck. “You’re being too hard on yourself,” she says. “You’re a quick learner, but when all is said and done, you’re still new at this.” I sigh and tighten my grip on her, but she tilts my chin up and catches my lips. “Don’t get discouraged. You’ll get there.”

I muster a small smile. “I hope you’re right.”

#

Once I’m sure Galiva is well taken care of, I head up to Olbric’s room. The little lock on his door clicks open as I approach - a modification he made a few months ago - but I still knock before coming in. 

Olbric’s at his desk, round spectacles low on his nose as he takes notes from a tome of a book. His long black hair is tied away from his handsome face, and in the past few months, it's only gotten longer, hanging nearly halfway down his back. He looks at me over the tops of his spectacles as I flop onto his unmade bed. “Rope practice went that bad, huh?” he asks.

I scowl and bury my face into his pillow, breathing in his familiar scent. “Rope practice was great, but then Galiva said I should try and cast,” I say. “Casting’s never bad. I’m just terrible at it.”

“You’re not terrible at it,” Olbric says, and his chair creaks as he leans back. “Did you have a good time?”

I sigh and roll onto my back, dragging fingers through my hair. “I guess? I dunno,” I say with a sigh. “Casting is weird for me.”

Olbric turns around in his chair, his arms resting over the backrest as he gives me his full attention. “Weird how?” he prompts.

I scrub my hand over my face. “I don’t know how to explain it,” I mutter at last. “I feel like I’m doing everything right. The rig was good, my knots were _perfect,_ Galiva was having a good time, and yet this is all I got out of it.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the two cleaned focuses. Usually you’re supposed to divvy the spells out, with any odd focuses going to the Crux’s stores, but Galiva had let me keep both.

Olbric takes them and rolls them in his palm. “You were doing rope suspension?” I nod and Olbric hums thoughtfully. “It’s definitely a diminished output for a spell of that caliber,” he says with a perplexed frown.

“Do you notice anything when I’ve cast with you?” I ask. “Am I just… doing something wrong?”

Olbric shakes his head as he hands the focuses back. “Not that I’ve been able to tell,” he says and then his grin turns sly. “Though if you’re wanting to try again, you know I’m certainly available. You still haven’t tried casting evocation.”

I groan and bury my face back into his pillow. As much as I enjoy evocation, I haven’t touched casting it. Every time I even think about it, it makes me uneasy. I’m quick to change the subject.

“Any headway on your transmutation spell?” I ask. Ever since he was overwhelmed outside of the Black Burrows by Diran and the other rogue wizards, Olbric’s taken a step back from evocation. Instead, he’s turned his sights onto a transmutation mastery. 

“Some, I think,” he says as he frowns at the notes on his desk. “After talking to Cancassi, I think I have an idea for the spell I want to develop.”

“Yeah?” 

“But I’m not telling you a thing about it until it’s ready,” he says with a grin. “Though once it is, I’d love for you to help me test it before I take it to Arlon. _If_ I have the nerve to take it to Arlon.”

I chuckle. “Oh, so you’re fine to cast it with me, but not with him?” 

“Arlon is intimidating to cast with! You got lucky getting around it for your divination mastery,” he says. “You, though - you’re easy to debase.”

I grab one of his pillows and huck it at the back of his head. “Rude!”

Olbric laughs, and I hear the scrape of his chair before he’s on me, pinning my hands over my head. “And you love every second of it,” he growls before biting my neck sharply.

I bite back a moan, but can’t deny that he’s right. “Maybe I should just conduit,” I say. “I’ve got one mastery. Maybe that’s enough.”

Olbric soothes the spot he bit with a gentle kiss. “Even though I think you’ll be great at it, there’s no rule saying you have to cast,” he points out. “But I think you should talk to Arlon.”

Heat floods my face at the thought of it. “I can’t talk to Arlon about this.”

Olbric catches my lips. “Dom, I went to Arlon my first month here after I lost a focus _in_ me,” he says. “Your casting block has got nothing on that.”

I chuckle and let my head flop back against his bed in defeat. “Alright, alright. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

#

Even though my heart’s in my throat, I stay true to my word. As I approach Arlon’s closed office door, I hear voices inside. I find a spot against the wall to wait and try my best not to eavesdrop, but Allisande isn’t making it easy. Her voice is raised in anger.

“-won’t even let me _try!”_

Arlon’s reply is calm, though it’s quiet enough that I can’t catch it. Whatever he said is apparently the wrong answer for Allisande, because she storms from his office a moment later, a whirlwind of black robes, fiery red hair and indignation. “Hey Dom,” she says shortly, but she doesn’t stop as she sweeps past. I watch her retreating back before slipping into the door.

The grandmaster is seated behind his desk pinching the bridge of his nose with long suffering look on his face. He’s started keeping his dark beard trimmed short over his strong jaw, though just like the hair on his head, parts of it are streaked with white and gray. I’ll admit it’s a good look for him. Even annoyed, he makes a handsome picture.

"I can come back,” I offer.

Arlon opens his eyes and gives me a close-lipped grin. “No, it’s fine. Allisande is just a wizard who does not like to be told no,” he says with a sigh. “What brings you here?”

I feel my face getting hot before I even start. “I’m… having some trouble with casting,” I say as I approach his desk. I pull out mine and Galiva’s spells. “I tried casting a mastery level abjuration spell with Galiva yesterday. It went well, but this is all we got out of it.”

Arlon takes the focuses and rolls them between his fingers. “There’s barely a hint of your energy in here,” he says. At my look, he raises an eyebrow, a shadow of a grin crossing his face. “When you’ve cast as many spells as I have, you start to feel the difference.”

I sit down in the chair across from him with a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” I say. “I did everything by the book, yet every spell I cast ends up like this.”

“It’s not uncommon for the most willing conduits to have trouble casting,” Arlon says. “Rest assured, you are not the first person to have this problem. I’d wager that most who study at the Crux come in with a natural predisposition for either casting or conduiting, though in some of us, that predisposition is stronger.” 

He sets the focuses on his desk, a small grin crossing his face. “I remember Garrett was in a similar situation to yours when he first started casting whereas I had the _opposite_ problem. It took me some time to be humble enough to be an effective conduit.”

“Garrett had trouble casting?” That revelation surprises me just as much as the revelation about Arlon doesn’t. The half-orc doesn’t seem like one who’d have an issue with casting. 

“It was quite a block he had to overcome,” Arlon says. “I wish he was in Straetham for you to talk to, but he’s in the Eastern Reach helping with the aftermath of an earthquake. He’s not scheduled to be back for another couple of weeks.”

I sigh and drum my fingers on his desk. It feels a little better to know that I’m not the only one who’s had trouble. “Do you know how he got past it?” I ask.

Arlon chuckles, and it’s one of the few times I’ve seen him smile when he’s not planning something particularly sadistic. “The same way I got past my own,” he says. “When we were adepts, the grandmaster of the Crux was a wizard by the name of Faunette, and she saw our unique situations as a learning opportunity.” 

He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, a fond look on his face. “She collared us both for a week. Seeing Garrett’s perfect submission helped me understand how to embrace my own, whereas I think he was so focused on Faunette that he learned something of how to discover his own dominance.”

I still have a hard time picturing Arlon conduiting. The thought of it makes an errant shiver rush over my skin. “What does collaring mean?” I ask, though I’ve been around the Crux long enough to have an idea.

Arlon looks at me thoughtfully. “It’s the opposite of marking you as a target,” he says. “When a wizard is collared, it means that they’re unavailable for casting save for whoever collared them. It can be used for any school, but it’s very effective with enchantment and some of the more subtle abjuration spells. A collared wizard is at the beck and call of whoever has collared them, for both casting and non-casting requirements. It’s a high protocol submission for a set period of time.”

I remember reading about protocol in some of my abjuration books. From what I understand, it means that the caster sets stricter rules and requirements on a conduit to elevate the efficacy of a spell before, during and even after casting. It also entails punishments for breaking those rules. It’s no one-afternoon thing, and I can’t deny that I like the idea of it. 

Arlon seems to read my mind. “Would you like to try?” he asks. “It’s been some time since I’ve collared anyone, and with no one currently petitioning for mastery, now is a good time for me to do so.”

I bite the inside of my cheek as I mull it over, a knot of anticipation forming in my gut. If it could help me get through this casting block, maybe it'd be worth it. “How do stops work while collared?”

Arlon looks pleased by the question. “If you issue a stop, then the protocol is dropped for us to talk and renegotiate,” he says. “Depending on what you decide, we can lift protocol again under new parameters, or we can drop it all together. The conduit always has the final say.”

I lean back in my chair as I consider it. The idea of being under Arlon’s control for a whole week sounds as daunting as it sounds interesting. What goes into a day for the grandmaster of the Crux? 

“I’m interested,” I say at last. "Let's talk."

I see a bit of excitement hidden in Arlon’s normally stoic face. He looks me over, sizing me up. "Does a full week sound like too much?"

"A week sounds fine," I say. I'll have to let Marguerite and Allis know that I won't be able to make our usual divination casting this week, but they'll understand. We've been trying to gather information about Diran with no luck, and I think all three of us are a little burnt out on it. The break might do us good.

Good," Arlon says. "Are there any schools you don't want me casting?" 

Negotiations used to feel so awkward. Laying out what I wanted and what I was okay with was hard at first, but in the past six months at the Crux, I’ve had to get used to it. "Corpimancy is a soft limit," I say. I've only ever done it with Galiva, and as much as I trust Arlon, I'm not sure if I want him putting needles through me quite yet. 

"What about mastery level spells?" Arlon asks. "I'll admit, I usually don't collar anyone who's been here less than a year, but you've demonstrated a willingness for all schools, so I'm making an exception." 

I rub the back of my neck as I think about that. Mastery level abjuration, illusion and transmutation don't scare me. Conjuration shouldn't be an issue because mastery level spells usually just involve a longer period of chastity. Even high level evocation can be fine as long as - 

"No canes." Olbric and I discovered they were not my brand of pain pretty quick, and he'd spent the rest of the night apologizing while kissing every welt on me. "And mastery level enchantment scares me a little bit, but it's not a limit.”

Arlon leans forward, steepling his fingers in front of him. "Why is that?"

My grin comes out crooked. "The overwhelm spell y’all did when you made me a target is the only time I've ever dropped after a casting."

"Ah."

I shrug. "I just… haven't quite figured out what's too much with enchantment, I think."

"Understood," Arlon says, though there's a grin already tugging at his lips. “Would you be alright with me easing you into some higher level enchantment?”

The idea of it sends a thrill of excitement up my spine. “I’m fine with that.”

Arlon smiles. I can see the ideas already running through his head. It makes my nerves thrum, because honestly, there's not much I haven't enjoyed conduiting for, and Arlon is a wizard who knows how to cast. "Do you want me to tell you my ideas, or no?"

My stomach does a strange little somersault. "Surprise me."

Arlon chuckles, and the sound of it makes the hair on my neck stand on end. "Then starting tomorrow morning at eight, you belong to me, Dominai,” he says, voice pitched low. “Don’t be late.”


	2. Collared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai is collared by Arlon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind comments! Friday is going to be posting day for new chapters, but be sure to check out my twitter @AletheaFaust if you want to get chapters a few weeks early ;)
> 
> Also, if you live in the US and haven't made a plan to vote, get on that. Voter suppression is happening everywhere, so be sure you have a plan to make sure your voice is heard. The stakes have never been higher. Vote.org makes it real easy to check your registration, find a polling place, etc.
> 
> You're all good! Stay safe <3

When I meet up with Galiva and Olbric in the baths that night, they think I’m crazy when I tell them what I’ve agreed to. 

“Oof, you’re in for it,” Galiva chuckles as she sinks into the steaming water. “Glad it’s your ass and not mine.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “That doesn’t help my nerves at all.”

“Good,” Galiva counters. “I’m not going to give you any false expectations going into it. Arlon’s going to put you through it, but he’ll take good care of you. He’s a hell of a caster.”

My cock jumps with excitement at the thought. I’m not sure what all to expect tomorrow, but I’m looking forward to it all the same.

Beside me, Olbric is suspiciously quiet. He dunks his head under the water to wet his hair before resurfacing and flipping it back, his russet skin shining. “Guess this means you won’t be available this week, then.” It’s not a question, but he sounds a little put out all the same. 

“Not while you’re wearing Arlon’s collar,” Galiva points out.

“Guess you’re right,” I say. I scoot a little closer to Olbric and slid my hand over his thigh. “You still have me for tonight at least.”

Olbric gives a huff of a laugh. “If I have you tonight, I’ll ruin you for the rest of the week,” he teases. “No, you should get a good nights’ rest. You’re going to need it.”

He’s not wrong, but excitement keeps me from a good night’s sleep anyway. I wake up later than I want to, and my whole morning is thrown a little off because of it. It’s not until I arrive at Arlon’s office at eight o’ three that I realize Galiva and Olbric might be right - maybe I _am_ crazy for agreeing to this.

Arlon looks at his pocket watch when I come through his door and raises an eyebrow. 

“You’re late.”

I clear my throat, suddenly nervous. “Sorry - Margeurite caught me in the hall,” I say. I hadn't been able to find her or Allis last night, but when I told her the reason I wasn’t available this week, she had given my ass a swat and told me to get going. 

“That sounds like an excuse,” Arlon says before motioning me over. It’s only then I see the collar on his desk. 

It’s no small band. It's as tall as my pointer finger and made of a sturdy black leather lined with fur. A silver buckle closes it, and the three little rings that lay at even intervals around it have been polished to a shine. “Kneel.”

I swallow and do as told, sinking to my knees in front of him. Arlon pulls my spell necklace off before he takes the collar and slides it around my neck. My heart thuds as he tightens it snugly, though he checks to be sure it’s not _too_ snug with a couple fingers under the band. Even so, it’s just tight enough and just wide enough that it checks my posture, keeping my chin up. I’ll certainly never be able to forget it’s there.

“For the duration of this week, this collar will stay on,” he says and puts my spells back around my neck. “You are not allowed to remove it or loosen it, but if it becomes too constricting you may ask me, and I will loosen it for you.”

I swallow as I look up at him and my answer is automatic. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon grins, and his thumb brushes my lower lip. “Good. You’ve already found the correct way to address me,” he says approvingly. “When I give you an order, or ask a question, you will always answer with ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir.’ Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I say again, though I can’t stop a shiver. There’s that authoritative tone I remember from when I first cast conjuration under his supervision. It’s enough to make my cock twitch.

“Excluding any stops, you are not allowed to speak unless I give you permission or ask you a direct question,” he says. “If you need to get my attention, you may bow until I acknowledge you.”

Fucking hell. High protocol indeed. My stomach twists when I realize he’s not finished. “As of now, you are not allowed to leave my presence without permission. This includes meals as well as relieving yourself. Is that understood?”

I flush red all the way to the tips of my ears. No wonder collaring is used for enchantment. Having to ask to even take a piss is humiliating in and of itself. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he says, and I hear the satisfaction in his voice. “Because you were late this morning, I think I’ve altered my plan for how this week will go. I was originally going to try and ease you into some mastery level enchantments, but now I think I might use this opportunity to wring a strong conjuration out of you.”

He’s grinning from ear to ear as he opens one of his desk drawers and pulls out the familiar metal chastity cage. I barely bite back a whimper. It's one thing to think of conjuration as no big deal during negotiations, but it's another thing entirely to be staring at the prospect of a week collared without orgasm.

“Do you think that’s an acceptable punishment?” he asks, and I realize he’s giving me an out.

I swallow and try to calm my racing heart down to get a reasonable thought through. Maybe this week will be easier with the cage? At least then I don’t have to worry about being paraded around the Crux naked all week.

“Yes, sir,” I say at last, and hope it’s the right decision.

In the six months I've been at the Crux, I don’t think I’ve seen Arlon smile this much. “Good,” he says. “Then strip, and fold your clothes on the chair in the corner.”

I realize my mistake instantly. There’s not a godsdamn thing stopping him from doing both. I learned from corpimancy that orgasm isn’t always necessary to create a spell. He might be able to wring some enchantment out of me even with the cage on.

I shiver as I get to my feet, my cock already half hard as I move to the corner and do as ordered. I fold my robe before stripping off the rest of my clothes. His office is a little chilly, and gooseflesh breaks out over my skin. 

“Come here, Dominai.”

He’s seated behind his desk now, and I walk back over to him, face flushed. He smiles as he motions me close enough that his fingers can toy with my cock. I clench my hands behind my back and try not to tremble. “You will learn that I am strict, but I am not cruel,” he says. “So consider this a gift to help get you through the rest of the week.”

He jerks me onto his chair so I’m straddling his waist. My hands fly behind his neck, and I yelp in surprise as he draws my cock into his mouth. _Fucking hell_ he's fast. 

Even if speaking isn’t allowed, making noise seems to be encouraged, and I moan as his tongue works my length expertly. My half-hard cock swells, and Arlon holds my hips hard, not allowing me to pull away. Not like I want to anyway. The heat of his mouth feels incredible as he swallows me to the root, taking my full length with ease.

I hadn't realized quite how aroused being collared had gotten me until my orgasm takes me by surprise. I shout as he grips my waist hard, holding me flush against him as my release comes. He doesn’t pull away, and my hands knot in his hair as he swallows every last drop of me. As soon as I'm spent he grabs my neck and pulls me down to kiss me hard. 

I whimper against him as I taste myself on his tongue, a rush of lust and humiliation flooding me. Godsdamn, it took him no time at all to unravel me. I suddenly feel completely outclassed and decide that Galiva and Olbric are right; I am crazy. 

Arlon grins against my lips even as I feel him fasten the cage around my softening cock. I hear the little click of the lock before he holds the silver key up for me to see. "This cage will stay on until the last day of your collaring," he says. "And I'll be sure you earn your freedom in the meantime."

I'm panting by the time he lets me up, my cock already protesting the tight confines of the cage. "Now, this week is meant to help you better understand a casting mindset through your own submission," he says. "So, I want you to note every time I do something that puts you into a submissive headspace, because I will ask you to recount them to me at the end of the day, understood?"

Fucking hell, _all of that_ was a pretty good start, but I just say, "Yes, sir."

"Good," Arlon says before he scoots his chair back from his desk. "Now, get comfortable. I have some work to do."

It takes me a second to realize what he's implying, but then I see the pillow and blankets he's set up for me. I flush hot red, but crawl into the gap under his desk, feeling like a collared dog. It's roomier than I thought it would be, though I still have to sit hunched to avoid hitting my head on the underside. Arlon reaches down and hooks one the rings of my collar to a tether that's attached to the foot of his desk. It seems to be a permanent addition, and I realize I'm not the first person he's kept under here. 

I shift to find a comfortable position and settle in, pulling one of the blankets around my naked shoulders. I hear the scrape of Arlon's pen, but after a few minutes of listening to him work, I start to get a little anxious. I feel like I should be _doing_ something. Taking notes or studying one of Galiva's endless books. It's a bit of a jolt to realize that other than be here, all other responsibilities have been lifted. It's… actually kind of nice.

When I realize I'm here for the long haul, I curl up a little more comfortably, my head left with nowhere to go but rest against Arlon's leg. He doesn't seem to mind it, and I let my eyes drift closed. A minute later, he reaches down and strokes a hand through my hair. I can't stop a smile as I start to doze. 

I'm not sure how much time passes, and it's kind of nice to not have to worry about it. Since coming to the Crux, I realize I haven't really taken a break longer than the occasional Saturday. With the steady thrum of arousal coursing through me, this isn’t exactly a break, but it’s just close enough. 

At some point, someone knocks on Arlon's door, and I blink awake. My head is pillowed on Arlon’s shoe, and I rub the sleep from my eyes as he calls, “Come in." 

The door grinds open, and I hear the familiar voices of Quartermaster Farlan and Paulette the chamberlain as they greet him. I flush to the tips of my ears and slide a little further into the hole under the desk. The non-magical staff of the Crux have no delusions about what we do, but I don’t go out of my way to involve them in it. Arlon seems content to ignore me, but now that I’m awake, I can't help but listen in on their meeting.

Until now, I hadn't realized just how much Arlon was involved in the day to day at the Crux. The chamberlain reports earnings for the week, and the numbers make my mind boggle. Apparently people really do pay good coin for spells and wizard services. But then Paulette starts talking about how much of it we need for the final food and cloth requisitions for winter, and I realize just how much money it takes to sustain a place like the Crux. After some back and forth, the numbers are settled and requisitions list finalized. 

The last order of business is that apparently the Crux is looking to hire another cook after Gladys accepted a position cooking for the King and court. Arlon leaves recruitment for that in Paulette's capable hands before their meeting is adjourned. 

"Oh, Arlon," Paulette says as I hear the door creak open again. "You might tell whoever is under your desk that their toes are sticking out."

My eyes go wide, and I yank my foot out from the little crack of clearance between the bottom of the desk and floor. Paulette and Farlan laugh before I hear the door close again. Arlon chuckles, and his hand reaches down to stroke through my hair.

"Are you hungry, Dominai?"

"Yes, sir."

Arlon leans back in his chair, and I blink when he releases his cock from the slit of his trousers. "First, you tend to this." 

I shiver, shocked at how fast he can drop me back into a headspace. I gently grab the base of his hardening cock, and though I've felt how big he is before, seeing it displayed makes me wonder if I can even fit him in my mouth. I do my best. 

I lap at the tip before opening my mouth wide to draw him in. I feel him swell to full attention, and I inch my lips down a little further, my jaw stretching to accommodate him. I fall into a rhythm, using my hand to cover what my mouth can't as I bob up and down his length.

"No hands," Arlon orders, and I can't stop a whimper as I let go of him. 

His hand snakes through my hair before he's easing me further down his length. I close my eyes and do my best to relax, but my throat isn't as flexible as Galiva's. I gag, and Arlon pulls my head back an inch, letting me take a second before he eases me back down again. Tears spring to the corners of my eyes as I fight back another gag, but I breathe deep through my nose and manage to stave it off - barely. It's a relief when Arlon pulls me back to the tip.

"I'll expect you to be able to take my full length by the end of the week," he says, his voice thick with pleasure. He doesn't seem to expect my answer as he starts to fuck my mouth shallowly, thrusting just deep enough to tease at the back of my throat. I swirl my tongue around his tip as best as I’m able and focus on drawing air in through my nose to stave off another gag.

My jaw aches, but then I feel the telltale throb of his cock. For a second, I'm afraid he's going to pull away and make me go to lunch with him all over my face. I shiver in relief when instead, he thrusts deep with a sigh of pleasure.

The sheer amount makes me grunt in surprise, a bit of him trickling from the corner of my mouth. "Swallow it," Arlon growls, and I do the best I can. He finishes with a quiet groan, and I gasp as I pull my mouth off of him. Even so, he doesn’t let go of my hair until I lick him clean. Only then does he tuck his cock away before he unclasps the tether from my collar.

He pushes his chair back to allow me out from under his desk. I unfurl and stand, leaving the blanket I had been using behind. Even though I know he’s seen me naked, I still feel exposed and vulnerable. It’s a challenge not to drop my hands to cover my caged cock.

Arlon's eyes rake over my naked body appreciatively, and for a second, I'm afraid he's going to take me to the mess hall like this. But he must read the unease on my face, because he jerks his head to my pile of clothes in the corner. 

"I'll allow you clothes today," he says. But the way he says it makes me suspect that won’t always be the case. 

#

I spend the whole day with Arlon. For most of it, I’m kept under his desk, listening in on a stream of meetings, or just the quiet scratch of his pen. He keeps busy enough that he sends me out on a couple of errands to pick up a specific book from the library or grab him a drink from the kitchens, though he lets me stay clothed for the rest of the day.

After dinner, he takes me back to his quarters. I hadn’t realized there were living quarters inside of the main tower of the Crux, but he leads me up to the second floor to the single door at the end of the corridor. His rooms are big, but they’re not lavish, though the wall that holds the large glass window is pure magiline, and it makes the whole room seem a little more splendid.

There's a bed large enough to fit three people, and through the far door, I see a private bath. Thick, comfortable rugs cover the floor, and a fire crackles in the hearth in the corner to stave off the early winter chill. A few shelves along the stone wall are stacked with books, and there is a desk that, to my surprise, is covered with finished and half-finished wood carvings. The largest is a rearing horse that is carved in fine detail and polished to a deep red while the mane and tail are stained black. 

He must see me staring because he says, "I used to whittle when I was younger. The hobby has just grown in scale over the years."

"It's beautiful." I immediately realize my slip and look at him with wide eyes. 

Arlon chuckles and motions me closer as he takes a seat in a comfortable reading chair by the fire. I swallow as I approach, feeling exposed even with my clothes on. He hooks a finger through the ring on my collar and pulls me to a half bow, drawing my face close to his.

"I'm honestly surprised that was your first slip," he says. "I was expecting to do this a few times today."

Without warning, he yanks me over his lap. I yelp as he pulls my trousers down just enough to expose my ass. I realize what he's about to do the second before he brings his hand down in a sharp, stinging slap. I yelp again, but he isn't finished until he delivers nine more hard spanks. Then he pulls me up by the collar again and kisses me hard. "Though I appreciate the compliment," he murmurs against my lips, his scruff tickling against my skin.

He releases me, and I stumble to my feet, face hot. It reminds me a little too much of my da taking me over his knee when I was a boy, and I'm not sure how to feel about it. I go to pull my trousers back up, but Arlon stops me. "That's unnecessary," he says. "Take them off."

His deep voice has adopted that tone again, sultry and almost playful. I shiver as I do as I'm told. He hasn't told me to put them anywhere, so I just let them drop. The fire helps stave off the draft but gooseflesh breaks out over my skin anyway.

"All of it," Arlon says. From his comfortable chair, he watches me intently as I strip off my robe and shirt before discarding my boots and socks. I'm left with nothing but the cage, collar and spell necklace, and even with the fire, I can't stop a shiver. 

"You've done well today," he says as he motions me forward again. He pulls me up so I'm straddling his waist again - a favorite position it seems. He brushes my hair back from my face. "I think that deserves a reward."

My heart’s pounding in my chest as he guides my arms over his shoulders, moving me like a doll. My breathing sounds loud in my own ears as he pulls a small bottle of lotion from his pocket before he slathers his fingers. His slicked digits glide down my crack before he pushes one into me, spreading me gently. I can’t stop a moan. He moves without an ounce of haste, thrusting one finger in deep and then a second. His fingers are large, and even with two, I feel full.

When he pushes a third into me, I groan even as my cock throbs inside of the cage. His free hand glides over my hip and down my back and ass before grabbing one cheek to spread me. I whimper and bury my face against his neck, as mortified as I am aroused.

I don’t know how long he prepares me, but I'm a trembling mess by the time he pulls his fingers away. My pulse spikes as he releases his cock from his trousers and coats his hard length with lotion. He grabs my hips, angling me just so. I’ve only taken him twice, and I tense as I feel the blunt tip of him prod at my well slicked hole.

“Relax,” he orders. I draw in a deep breath and let it out against his neck as the tip of him enters me. He feels just as big as I remember, but this time, he guides my hips down even as he rolls his up to meet me. I whimper, the stretch bordering on painful even though he's prepared me well. I bury my face against his shoulder, and he strokes a hand down my back, letting me adjust around him.

"Are you alright?" 

I bite my lip and shift a little, lifting myself up before sinking back down onto him. Arlon’s big, but the past six months at the Crux have made taking him a whole lot easier. I relax around his girth with a quiet groan. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He grabs my hips, pushing me further onto him even as he thrusts up to meet me. I cry out, eyes shooting wide as his cock spears me. My well-prepared hole accepts him, and I shout again as his second thrust rams that sweet spot inside of me. He holds my hips hard enough to bruise, anchoring me to him. 

I've been taken rough before, but never by Arlon. Never like this. 

I wrap my arms around him, clinging to him as he uses me for his pleasure. Like I belong to him. It’s a bit of a jolt to realize that I _do._ Arlon’s cock rams deep, and only then does it finally sink in - what collaring really means. I’m his _property,_ and for the next seven days, Arlon can do whatever he wants with me.

I whimper against his neck with every deep thrust, my trapped cock straining inside of the cage. There are no ropes holding me, no straps keeping me contained. Nothing is keeping me bound to him but the collar around my neck, yet it holds just as strong. Fucking hell, and this is only day _one._

My cock leaks, but I already know there will be no release for me tonight. I won't have it until Arlon allows me to have it. The realization wrings a tormented moan from my lips even as I spread my legs wider, accepting every tortuous thrust. I give myself over to him, submitting entirely to the rough fucking. 

I hear his breath hiss by my ear, shiver at his groan of pleasure. It sends a thrill of satisfaction through me to know I’m the one causing those noises. He sinks deep into me, and when his cock swells, I feel a bit of elation that I was able to give him that, too. He fills me with a moan, one hand gripping the back of my neck as his teeth scrape my bare shoulder. I whimper and sag against him, my own cock throbbing and red inside of the cage.

For a long moment, we stay like that. Arlon is relaxed and spent, while I tremble with unfulfilled desire, his cock still sheathed inside of me. Finally, he pulls out with a groan, and my hole twitches at the loss. He scoots me further onto his lap as he cleans me with a handkerchief from his pocket. My trembling slowly subsides, and I start to relax as his arms wrap around me.

Gentle fingers brush my hair away from my face, and I blink hazily up at him. "I want to check in with you," he says. "You have permission to speak freely. How are you feeling?"

I give a small laugh as I rub my face, trying to sort through my own emotions. "I'm so randy I can barely think,” I admit.

Arlon's chuckle rumbles through me. "Expect that to get worse as the week goes on," he promises. “How was today for you?”

I try and sort through my own thoughts, but I have a hard time with it. “Relaxing isn’t the right word… calming, maybe? I didn’t have to worry about studying or casting or anything else. I just had to be here.”

Arlon’s fingers continue to stroke through my hair. It feels nice. I let my eyes slide closed. "I don't think I realized just how deep your submission ran until today," Arlon says after a moment. "I saw you fall into it the moment I put the collar around your neck. Some I've collared have balked at what I've had them do, but not you. You took everything in stride. You fell right into it."

I shift a little more comfortably against his chest as I digest that. "I guess… it wasn't my place to refuse," I say. "And nothing you had me do ever made me feel like I needed to stop."

Arlon smiles, and there's no hint of sadism in it. Only pride. "You're an incredible sort of wizard, Dominai. Very few are so willing to trust and experience as openly as you do."

I flush at the praise. "No one at the Crux has ever given me a reason not to trust them," I say. "Least of all you."

Arlon cups my neck and presses a kiss against my forehead. "And I will never knowingly betray that trust," he says. "When I collar someone, I do so with the intention to test their limits, and though I am good at reading people, even I can make mistakes. In spite of the control you’ve given over to me, never forget that you have the final say here. If I ever overstep or do anything that makes you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, I want you to stop me."

I nod and rest my head against his shoulder, nose brushing his neck. "Yes, sir."

Arlon kisses my head again. "Good. Now, tell me about your day."

I flush as I recount all the things he did that put me into a submissive headspace. But as I do, I start to realize something. Even though there were flashpoints where it was particularly intense, Arlon's very _presence_ puts me there.

"It's like… dominance pours off of you," I say. “I’ve always noticed it, but it feels like now I’m getting the full force of it.”

Arlon pulls a blanket off of the back of his chair to cover my bare shoulders. "I have a dominant personality," he says as he makes sure I'm covered. "That’s what you see during the normal day to day at the Crux. But when I'm casting or have someone collared, I fall into my own sort of headspace. It’s a thrill to have someone submit to me, to allow me to control their experience. I enjoy the responsibility that comes with dominating another person - for their own enjoyment as well as my own."

Folks in the Crux often talk about headspace as a conduit thing so I've never thought about a caster headspace. "When I first cast divination with Galiva, I felt that thrill," I say. "It was… heady knowing I had control over her."

Arlon's fingers stroke through my hair gently. "Yet the spells you've produced recently show that you don't experience that same feeling when casting abjuration," he says. "Why do you think that is?"

"I _do_ get that feeling,” I say. “But the nerves sort of… stamp it out.” I sigh, but it takes me a moment to put my thoughts into words. “I think it has to do with the silver," I say at last. "Since they can't hear me or see me, they can't… judge me."

Arlon hums thoughtfully. "It sounds like a confidence issue," he says. "This is not the first time your lack of confidence has come to my attention. We'll work on that this week."

I'm not sure how to respond to that, so I stay quiet, keeping my head buried against his neck. Arlon's fingers continue to stroke through my hair, a comforting presence. The adrenaline starts to wear off, leaving me in a comfortable post-fuck haze. His fingers start to lull me to a doze. 

"You'll stay here tonight," Arlon says at last. "I know you're an early riser, so when you wake up, you will prepare my clothes for me, and then you have permission to go down to the baths without me. I will meet you in the mess hall at eight sharp."

I smile at that. "Yes, sir."


	3. Loaned Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai has a challenging day when Arlon loans him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Hope you all are hanging in there. It's been a rough week for me, but your comments and kudos really do keep me going. As always, thank you for reading!

The next morning, I wake up on the sleeping mat on the floor near the foot of Arlon's bed. At first, I don’t really register where I am, but then I feel the weight of the collar around my neck and let out a sigh of relief. I blink into the dark room and get up, hearing Arlon's deep, even breathing from the bed.

The fire has dimmed to embers, but I stoke it again when I feel how cold the room has gotten. It's too early for the sun, so I use the crackling light to gather Arlon's clothes. I find a clean shirt and trousers hanging in the closet. I set them out on his chair along with a pair of socks. I even find a rag and polish that I use to shine his boots before I set them on the floor underneath. His robe is hanging over the back of the chair, but I take it down and fold it so the ribbons of color on his sleeves are showing. 

I find my own clothes where I had dropped them the night before. I put them on before heading out as quietly as I can. The door opens with a quiet groan, but Arlon doesn't stir as I close it behind me. I let out a sigh of relief and head down to the baths, but I swing by my own room in the divination tower for a change of clothes first. 

It's early so I take my time to wash, finding a peppering of bruises on my hips. I'm still sore, but it's manageable, and the hot water of the baths does good to soothe the ache. I wash my hair and shave, which is harder to do when I'm trying my best to keep my collar dry. 

I hear someone pad down the stairs and smile when I see Cancassi. I still haven't quite figured out the Maeve's sleep schedule, but I'm starting to lean towards nocturnal.

"Good morning, Dom," they say brightly. Ever since the fight with the rogue wizards, they walk with a limp, but it’s especially obvious as they head towards my pool. The cold weather must be making it ache, just like my arm did before Galiva fixed it. "May I join you?"

I have a feeling the no-talking rule probably applies even when Arlon isn't present, so I just nod and wave them over. They discard their bathrobe, exposing the scar that stretches over their left hip and down their thigh. Every time I see it, I get angry at Diran all over again. Galiva and Garrett had only been able to do so much for the wound once Cancassi had been stabilized. The acid ball Diran had thrown had already done its damage, and there was no healing flesh that was no longer there to heal.

I offer them a hand to get into the pool, which they gratefully take. "You're awfully quiet this morning," they say. 

I smile as I pull my spell necklace aside and point to the collar. 

"Aah," they say, their copper eyes narrowing as they grin. "That's right - Olbric mentioned that Arlon had collared you for the week. How does it feel being the grandmaster's bitch?"

Ever since Cancassi decided to work towards an enchantment mastery, they like to do everything they can to make me blush. They're getting rather good at it, too. I flush, and the heat of the baths do nothing to hide it. They laugh before they catch sight of the cage through the water. 

"Gods, _and_ a chastity cage?" They tsk and sink back into the water. "I do not envy your week." I just grin and shrug. Cancassi chuckles as they unbraid their long white hair. "Maybe I envy it a little bit. I certainly look forward to hearing all the sordid details once you get your voice back."

I'm sure I'll have some stories, though whether I decide to share them is still up for debate. I grin and glide across the pool to kiss their cheek before I motion to the stairs. I'm not sure the exact time, but I’ve got to be getting close, and I've learned there's nothing wrong with being early with Arlon. 

"Don't let him loosen your ass too much," Cancassi calls as I climb out of the pool. I flush again and flip a rude gesture, though I can't help but grin.

I dry off and get dressed quick before heading up to the mess hall. I'm greeted by the smell of cooking sausage, and my stomach grumbles loudly. Fortunately I don't have to wait long - I'm right on time, and it's only a few minutes before Arlon walks in. 

He catches sight of me and tsks dramatically as he walks over. "I must not have been very clear," he says. "When you are collared, clothes are a privilege that are earned. Take them off."

He's speaking loud enough that the whole hall can hear. I flush and realize that it's peak time for breakfast. I catch sight of Galiva and Olbric's wide grins just behind Arlon, and realize that this was no unintentional slip on the grandmaster's part. 

Godsdamn, but he likes to get me naked in front of the entire Crux. Maybe it's just because I still haven’t lost all of that hammered in Airedale prudishness, but it never gets easier being naked in front of a group. I'm red to the tips of my ears as I pull my robe off and put it over Arlon's waiting hand. My shirt goes next, followed by socks and boots. When I get to my trousers, I hear Olbric's distinct whistle and shoot him a glare. Then I stand naked as the day I was born, save for my spells, the collar and cage around my cock in front of the entire Crux.

Arlon smiles as he bundles my clothes up. "Let's eat."

#

After breakfast, Arlon informs me that he is taking me to a casting lesson with Orabelle. "I thought you would be a fine conduit for her to practice evocation on. But don't worry, the cage will stay on,” he says with a wicked grin. "This is more for her to be able to familiarize herself with other evocation casting components."

I shiver and look at Arlon with wide eyes. Ever since it was confirmed the tzigaro woman we freed from Diran had magic in her blood, she made it very clear that she would not consent to conduiting. After what she'd been through, no one could blame her. What I hadn't realized was that Arlon was mentoring her casting lessons personally. 

Fucking hell, I'm about to get beat by an _adept._

"I will be there to monitor," Arlon says, sensing my unease. "She has learned admirably for someone who has never conduited, and I will be sure you are handled appropriately. Agreeable?"

I run a hand through my hair, realizing he’s giving me a choice. Evocation is a challenging school. I've never actually done it with anyone but Olbric and Galiva, but I trust Arlon. Knowing he'll be there to monitor takes some of the weight off of the decision. "Yes, sir."

Arlon smiles and leads me to the evocation tower, to a room just a few doors down from the one Olbric usually uses. He opens the door, and Orabelle is already inside, comfortably reclined on the bed that rests in the center of the room. She looks up, and her eyes immediately land on me. One dark eyebrow raises as she takes my naked self in. 

"Hi Dom," she says with a sly grin. I flush and raise a hand in greeting.

Arlon claps me on the shoulder and says, "Dominai has volunteered to conduit for your lesson today."

"Oh has he now?" Orabelle asks as she steps towards me, eyeing the collar and cage curiously. She says something in a lilting language I don't recognize, and Arlon chuckles before he responds in kind. I glance at him and wonder, not for the first time, where Arlon comes from. I know he's non-bloodline as well, but is he tzigaro? 

Orabelle grins as she looks up at me. She's a petite woman, standing only as tall as my chest. She's cropped her black hair short since deciding to stay at the Crux, and it frames her pixie-like face, but the look she's giving me is downright impish.

"I've got some ideas for you," she says before she glances at Arlon and asks something in that same lilting tongue. Arlon considers it for a moment before he says something in response that makes Orabelle's grin widen.

"Go ahead and get comfortable, Dominai," Arlon says and motions to the bed. I sense a trap, but I do as asked and go sit on the edge of it. Orabelle is already at the supply cabinet and pulls out a length of rope.

"Lie back, if you wouldn't mind," Orabelle says. 

"No need to ask him," Arlon says. "Just give the order and he'll obey. Isn't that right, Dominai?"

"Yes, sir." The bed isn't any different than my own, save that it only has the bottom sheet tucked around it. The main difference is that there are four posts, one at each corner, built right into the framework. I can easily tell what they're for, and I'm not wrong as Orabelle ties my wrists and ankles to each of them to keep me splayed. 

She's efficient with the ropes, and goes about binding me with quick confidence. "How's that feel?" she asks.

I open my mouth to speak but stop myself. I swallow and look back at Arlon. He seems pleased and says, "You may address her with the same respect you would address me."

"It feels fine ma'am, thank you," I say, though my voice comes out a little rough. Whether it's from anticipation or disuse, I'm not sure. I test the ropes and find that both them and the posts I'm bound to are strong. 

"Is the cage coming off?" Orabelle asks. 

"No," Arlon says. I can't stop a small groan of disappointment. Just being tied and splayed out has already gotten me heated. Inside of the cage, my cock aches.

Orabelle smiles and says something I don't understand before she heads back to the cabinet to fetch something else. Arlon chuckles and says, "No, _that_ is certainly available for use."

I shudder and don't need a translation to know what they're talking about. Orabelle comes back with a bag full of something that clanks. I frown as I try to puzzle out what it is, but she's kind enough to reach in and pull one out to show me.

It's a simple wooden clothespin, no different than what the launderers use to hang sheets out to dry. "Ready?" Orabelle asks, a smirk on her face.

I raise an eyebrow, and can't help but mirror her smirk. Clothespins have nothing on some of the spells I've let Olbric cast with me. This, I can handle. "Yes ma'am."

The first one pinches around my left nipple with a little sting of pain. I lay back and close my eyes even as she closes a matching one onto the other. The spots fade to a dull throb, but after a moment, it's easy enough to ignore.

It gets less easy the more she puts on. She finds the sensitive spots - the skin over my ribs, my inner thighs, just under my arms. She leaves even rows of clothespins behind, and I grimace as she closes one on a particularly sensitive spot on my chest. I don’t know how long it takes, but she finally closes the last one onto my side. I don’t breathe too deep, because every time I do, it tugs at the row on my ribs.

In an almost innocent gesture, she flicks the long forgotten one on my nipple, and I can't stop a gasp as pain radiates from the spot. My eyes fly open, and I look down to see the pattern she’s made over me in no less than a fifty pins. 

She grins as she meets my eye. Then, she pulls the pin on my nipple off. I shout as hot pain laces through the sensitive skin and realize that putting them on wasn't the hard part. It’s getting them off that’s going to wring the screams out of me. 

"Still feeling so cocky?" she asks as she toys with the clothespin over my other nipple. 

"N-no ma'am," I say, and I hear Arlon's deep chuckle behind me. 

Orabelle pulls the pin off my other nipple, and I hiss as I clench my eyes shut. Blood throbs back into the pinched skin wringing a miserable little whimper out of me. Getting the rest off is going to be nothing short of torture.

“Maybe give him something to distract him,” Arlon suggests, and I’ve never been more grateful in my entire life.

Orabelle chuckles and replies in tzigaro before she goes back to the cabinet to grab something else. I whimper as she eases my legs even further apart before something buzzes against my hole. I jump in surprise only to hiss as it makes every pin on me rattle. She presses a round focus into me that buzzes with charge. The rest of the string follows, five in all, and they rattle against one another inside of me. I shudder, a moan leaking out from behind my pursed lips.

Then without warning, she swats off two clothes pins from the inside of my thigh. I shout and flinch away, but I have nowhere to go. She doesn’t relent and takes two more off from my other thigh, and I can’t tell if I prefer it when she gets rid of them quick or pulls them off slow. Both ways are terrible.

The buzzing focuses only do so much to distract me as she plucks off all the ones she’s put on my thigh. But then she leans down and kisses the sensitive skin gently, and I shudder for a whole new reason. My cock throbs and the vague thought crosses my mind that this is only day two. 

She tugs out one of the focuses, and I yelp in surprise as it sends a thrill of pleasure up my spine. Leisurely, she pushes it back in, and I sag in my ropes with a needy little whine. 

Arlon floats into my field of vision. He reaches down to flick one of the clothespins on my chest. 

“Are you alright, Dominai?” he asks.

I arch as Orabelle takes one off from the skin of my ribs. I kick my legs against the bed as best I'm able, like any movement will ease the sting. It doesn’t, and I take a few deep breaths through my nose before I answer. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon looks at me thoughtfully and says, “Orabelle, I think we might be able to get a spell or two out of him with this.”

“Really?” she says even as she pulls another clothespin from my abused skin.

“Orgasm isn't always required to finish a spell, though it depends on the conduit,” he says. “Sexual release can help charge a few more focuses, but with what you’re doing, Dominai will almost certainly be able to fill a couple all on his own.”

Orabelle smiles and pulls out a couple of uncharged rings from her pocket. For a blessed second, I think they're going to take the cage off, but then Orabelle simply slides the focuses over my fingers. I feel them spark and sag helplessly before Arlon’s grip tightens in my hair. 

“Maybe I can give you one more distraction,” he says, and I barely get a glimpse of his cock before he pushes it past my lips. He stretches my jaw as he thrusts deep. Tears leak from my eyes as I fight not to gag, but it’s a losing battle. As soon as I do, he pulls back to a comfortable distance, though he doesn’t pull out. 

Orabelle takes the opportunity to slap off three more clothespins, and my shout is muffled around Arlon. He groans appreciatively and pushes in deep once more. He said that by the end of the week I’d be able to take all of him, and he seems intent to make that happen. I clench my eyes shut tight and focus on breathing through my nose. His cock tickles at the back of my throat, just shy of making me gag. He stays there for a long moment, and it is just enough of a distraction that I don’t shout when Orabelle takes off two more pins. 

As soon as he feels me relax, he pushes deeper, moving past my gag reflex. His grip on my hair is firm, keeping me there as I reflexively try to tug away. Tears stream from my eyes as I try to fight off another gag. He pulls me down a little further, and I feel his cock slip deeper into my throat. My nose just brushes the hair that halos his cock before he releases me. 

I jerk back and cough, spit trailing from my mouth as I try to get myself back under control. A hand cups my cheek, and I blink hazily up to see Orabelle smiling. “Ready for the last ones?” she asks.

I glance down and see that there are still two rows of ten on either side of my chest. Then I see the small string that’s been pinched under each pin, and Orabelle holds the string ends in her hand. 

Fuck _all the way off_ with that. I whimper and shake my head, a stop hovering behind my teeth. Then Arlon’s fingers are under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. I quiver as I meet his gaze.

“I know you can do it, Dominai,” he says. “You’re almost done.”

I grit my teeth. It's going to hurt. A lot. But hearing Arlon's belief in me is what makes me say, “I’m ready ma’am.”

Orabelle smiles, and I feel the little strings pull taught. She does me the courtesy of counting down. “Three, two, one.” 

With one sharp tug, she pulls the strings up, and the two rows of clothespins follow. Arlon pulls the buzzing marbles out of me at the same time, making me howl. I arch on the bed even as the focuses around my fingers spark and crackle. My skin feels like it's been ripped _off,_ but least it’s over quick.

I slump back against the bed, trembling as the fizzles of pain start to subside. Orabelle’s hands are gentle and cool as she brushes over my abused flesh. She soothes the red marks with gentle kisses, and the soft touch makes me shake so hard I feel like I’ll rattle apart. 

“Oh hell, I missed one,” Orabelle says, and I yelp as the last clothespin under my arm comes off. Relief washes the sting away. I bury my face against my arm and start to laugh even as tears leak from the corner of my eyes. It’s paradoxical, but it’s not the first time I’ve started cracking up after evocation, and I doubt it’ll be the last.

Arlon chuckles and his fingers are gentle as they stroke through my hair. “Are you alright, Dominai?”

It’s an unstoppable, aching kind of laugh. It takes a moment, but I finally manage to get out one weak little word. “Ow.”

Orabelle says something I don’t understand even as she starts to untie me. I hear the smile in Arlon’s voice as he responds, and once I’m free, he scoops me into his arms like I weigh nothing. He pulls me into his lap as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, stroking my hair until my laughter subsides. I’m left sore and exhausted in the wake of it, but the aching throb in my cock takes a little longer to fade than the pain does.

“Are you alright, Dominai?” Arlon asks again.

This time I’m coherent enough to say, “Yes, sir.”

“Then thank Orabelle for casting with you.”

Arlon gently pushes me to my feet. I sway a little as I settle into the familiar floaty feeling of conspace. The glowing focuses are still around my fingers, but I pull them off as I sink to my knees in front of Orabelle. She looks at me in surprise as I offer the spells to her. “Thank you for casting with me, ma’am."

Orabelle takes the focuses from my palm and leans down to kiss my cheek. “You’re very welcome.”

#

I tail Arlon for the rest of the day, and sometime around midafternoon I realize that the embarrassment at being naked has faded some. Eyes follow me, expressions ranging from sly to amazed at the red marks that still haven't faded from my skin, but I find myself standing a little straighter under their scrutiny. The collar always corrects my posture, but I find it easier to hold my head up as the day goes on. 

Even so, confidence doesn't do anything to keep me warm in the drafty halls of the Crux. Arlon spends the rest of the afternoon checking in with the wizards we recovered from Diran’s cave, but he leaves me to wait in the hall while they have their private conversations. 

First stop is with Alix. Of all of the recovered wizards, he’s the one I‘ve seen the least of in the past few months. I catch sight of the pretty black haired man before Arlon disappears behind his door for over an hour. When he emerges, Alix offers me a small smile before he closes his door again.

Next is Marvin and then Iona. I try my best not to eavesdrop, but Iona's voice has a way of carrying. I can't help but overhear some of the issues she's having with Ambra and Thaddius. I gather that the three of them had been close before Diran had caught up with her, but now that she’s back, Thaddius has been moody and jealous at how close Ambra’s been keeping her. Hearing her cry over it hurts. I don’t hear what Arlon tells her, but by the time he emerges, Iona’s red-eyed, but smiling. 

After, Arlon checks in with Olbric as well. A wicked grin spreads over his face as soon as he catches sight of me. I flush as his eyes rake over my naked self before Arlon closes the door behind him. I wait patiently and try not to shiver as the early winter breeze creeps through the halls. Once they’re through, Olbric winks at me before he closes his door again.

When we get to Allisande, the red-haired wizard gives a thin, cool smile. "I am fine, thank you, grandmaster," she says formally. "But I have a casting appointment with Marguerite."

Arlon leads us away and mutters, “Apparently she's still mad at me." It makes me wonder what their argument had been about, but I don’t have a chance to ask as Arlon leads us down to the mess hall for dinner. We had missed lunch due to the lesson with Orabelle, so I’m starving as I gather a plate for both of us. Arlon takes mine from me and sets it on the floor before he allows me to eat it.

After, we return to his quarters, and a vague part of me recognizes that I’m deep in a headspace. Apparently a day of being paraded around naked and made to eat my dinner from the ground like a dog is enough to keep me in it, even though it’s only Arlon’s eyes watching me now. He must see my vacant expression because he cups my cheek, and I blink to attention.

“Are you alright, Dominai?” he asks. 

I lean into his touch, letting my eyes slide closed. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Kneel.”

I do as told, my knees hitting the soft rug as I look up at him. His thumb brushes my lips, and I draw it into my mouth, sucking gently. A barely there shiver runs through Arlon, and I feel a thrill of excitement that I can have that effect on him. “You did very well today,” he says as he pushes his thumb a little deeper. “I saw that Orabelle was testing your limits, yet you persisted.”

With his thumb in my mouth, I can’t answer, but I flush all the same. He pulls his hand away, and I can’t stop a small noise of displeasure. “Wait there,” he says before he goes to his bedside table. He opens the drawer and pulls out a small jar that’s filled with what look like round sugar candies. He grabs one and brings it over to me. “Suck on this.”

I frown, but don’t protest as he slides it between my lips. The hint of sweetness is quickly overwhelmed by the taste of sage and mint. It floods my mouth and nose, strong enough that my eyes start to water, but I suck the little candy until it dissolves. Only when I swallow the last little bit do I realize that it’s numbed my throat some. I look up in surprise and see Arlon’s grin.

He runs his hand through my hair before he grabs roughly by the roots. “For leaving me unsatisfied earlier, you deserve to have your throat fucked until you gag,” he growls, and the heat in his voice makes me shiver. “But I am kind so I will spare you from gagging as best as I can.”

I don’t quite stop a whimper. The numbing candy makes words harder. They come out a little thick, a little clumsy as I say, “Thank you, sir.”

“Tell me what you want.”

I swallow. My tongue feels heavy, but I form the words anyway. “I want you to fuck my throat, sir.”

"Good boy."

His grip on my hair tightens, and I open my mouth to allow him in. I draw in a breath as he thrusts deep, but he doesn’t seat himself fully. He tests me, poking at the back of my throat as if checking that I can handle him. My gag reflex quivers, but thanks to the candy, there's no automatic urge to pull away. He sets a steady pace, inching deeper with every thrust. My jaw aches as he works himself into my mouth.

He moans deeply, his grip tightening on my hair. The sound of his pleasure causes a thrill to rush through me. "Ready?" He doesn't seem to expect an answer. He thrusts deep, pushing past my gag reflex with an ease that surprises me. My nose brushes his navel, and he pulls my head away before thrusting in again, seating himself even deeper. 

I feel the slide of his cock down my throat, and even with the numbing candy, I can't help but gag. I automatically try to pull away but Arlon tightens his grip, holding me there, my nose flush against his stomach. Tears leak from my eyes, and my throat swallows around him as I will myself to hold on for just a little longer.

Then Arlon moans, and I feel his length swell. He cums hard, and I have no choice but to swallow what he gives me as his cock pulses and empties down my throat. It feels like it goes on forever, but I don't pull away until Arlon lets me. When he finally releases my hair, I gag and cough, my mouth thick with the taste of him and a hint of sage. I wipe spit from my mouth, my hand shaking.

Then a glass of water appears in front of me, but Arlon pushes my hand away when I try to take it. He tilts it to my lips, and I drink obediently, the cool water soothing my used throat. His fingers stroke through my hair as he murmurs soft praise that I barely register. 

When I'm finished with the glass, he scoops me up, carrying me with ease. I'm in it deep, so I just rest against him, limp as a kitten as he takes me over to his chair. He sits and pulls me onto his lap, holding me close as he strokes my hair back. The quiet murmurings slowly start to make sense as words, and I flush as he calls me talented and capable and beautiful. I blink as I start to sink back into myself. Arlon's fingers are gentle as they brush the last of my tears from my face.

"I want to check in with you," he says. "You are allowed to speak freely. How do you feel?"

I let my eyes slide closed with a quiet groan. "Exhausted," I say, voice hoarse. My words are still a little thick coming off my tongue. "Today was… a lot."

Arlon kisses my temple. "I pushed you today," he says. "And you rose to the challenge admirably. I'm very proud of you, Dominai."

My chest swells at the praise, and for once, I don’t flinch away from it. He’s right - today _was_ a challenging day, but hearing him say it does something to me. I’ve always shied away from folks telling me the good things about myself because part of me could never believe them. Yet hearing Arlon say it breaks through the barrier of disbelief I’ve built around myself. For once, I’m proud of _myself_ for what I was able to do.

The fatigue hits me like I’ve run into a wall. I yawn and curl up a little tighter, trying to stave off the chill that the fire can’t quite dispel. "Thank you," I say and mean it. "But can I make a request?"

Arlon hums thoughtfully. "You may ask," he says.

I nestle against his chest, my nose brushing his neck. "Can I please have clothes tomorrow?" I ask. "It's fucking cold in this place."

Arlon chuckles. "Winter has made an early appearance," he says. "With what we are doing tomorrow, you may have clothes."

I open my eyes to look up at him. "What are we doing tomorrow?"

Arlon smiles. "You'll just have to find out."


	4. The Heart of the Crux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlon wears Dominai out with a long day of chores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, thank you so much for your comments and enthusiasm for this story and these characters! Every time I see that little inbox notification, it makes me smile. This weekend is a busy one for me, so that means this chapter is being posted a little early. I hope you enjoy!

When I wake the next day, I watch the sky brighten to a dreary grey that threatens snow outside of Arlon’s big glass window. He didn’t give me permission to leave this morning, and I have very little desire to anyway. Other than a quick venture out to re-stoke the fire, I stay firmly planted under my pile of blankets at the foot of his bed.

Winter in the Hobokins usually meant I holed up in my cabin, only going out into the cold when I had to. I’d live off my stores, and I’d sleep more often than not. My own kind of hibernation. I give in to that familiar urge and doze for the better part of an hour before I hear Arlon start to stir.

“Are you awake, Dominai?”

I yawn and try to shake off the winter pall. “Yes, sir.”

He groans, and it sort of sounds like he wished I hadn’t answered. I hear him shift before he says, “Then get dressed. Be sure to dress warm.”

I do as asked, and Arlon gives me permission to go to my room to grab my winter cloak. I don my thick socks as well, brush my teeth and hair, before meeting him in the mess hall. We eat a quick breakfast of hot oats and dried fruit, but no matter how many times I catch his eye, he doesn’t give a hint as to what we’re up to today. At least he lets me sit at the table and use a spoon today.

We’re heading back towards his office when he holds out a hand. “Give me your spell necklace,” he says. “Charged focuses can act a little strange where we’re going.”

I look at him in surprise, but I do as asked and pull it from around my neck. I only have two rows, neither full, and the wire-reinforced strands are stiff when Arlon takes them. When we reach his office, he unlocks a drawer on his desk that I only now notice is reinforced with abjuration. He stores my necklace next to his own before locking and sealing the drawer once more.

“Follow me,” Arlon says. He seems a little excited. With how bundled we are, I expected to be heading outside, but instead, Arlon goes to the far wall of his office. His hands brush over one of the stones, and I see the glow of a focus sealed right into the mortar before the wall drops away.

I gape at the narrow little staircase that descends down and out of sight. Arlon grabs one of the glowing orbs from its alcove in the wall. He smiles at me over his shoulder before he starts down. I follow him, feeling the rush of chilled air from below.

The staircase descends down in a tight spiral, but the further we go, the colder it gets. I shiver and pull my cloak a little closer around me, tailing close enough to stay in the light of Arlon’s orb. The stairs seem to go forever, but after a long minute, they come to an end and spill out into an open clearing. I gasp, my breath misting in front of me in the cold, humid air. 

“Welcome to the heart of the Crux,” Arlon says. He keeps his voice low, but it echoes all the same, bouncing off the cavern around us. Arlon’s light catches the pillars of shimmering magiline that jut from the ground. They erupt like frozen geysers from the veins of white that cut through the stone under our feet. Some of the pillars are thick as tree trunks, but the largest by far, I realize, is the base of the main tower of the Crux. 

It doesn’t matter that Arlon has ordered me to silence - I can’t find the words anyway. Arlon runs a hand over one of the white pillars, and it comes alive under his touch, shimmering with a ghostly white glow. “This cave is where every focus you have ever used came from,” Arlon says. “Every spell we store and release is made possible by the magiline we’ve harvested from this place.”

The pillar he touched starts to hum gently, like a tuning fork being struck. The sound of it seems to wake up the others, and soon, the whole cavern is bathed in a soft white light. It ripples gently, like light shining through water.

“And right now, we are low on our stores,” Arlon says. I blink and realize he’s holding out a chisel and hammer. I take them and bow, my head spinning.

Arlon grins. “Ask your questions.”

I hardly know where to start. "How old is this place?"

"The Crux as we know it has been an institution for about three hundred years," he says. "But the magiline tower and this deposit existed long before that. Before it was altered, the main tower was a sacred site of the Lightbringer.”

“I’m sure that caused a bit of a stir when folks realized it could store magic,” I mutter.

Arlon chuckles at that. “Wars were fought over it. Even today, there’s still a not insubstantial part of the population that thinks wizards are vulgar heretics for desecrating the site. It doesn’t help that it took another three decades for the clerics of the Lightbringer to confirm the stance that magic is a gift sent from the divine. Even after they did, they didn’t want their goddess of light and life associated with things like sex and magic, so the site was reassociated to the goddess Coition."

"Coition?" I repeat.

"The patron goddess of sex, pleasure, and as of about three hundred years ago, magic, which certainly upped her standing in the greater pantheon," Arlon says with a grin. "Coming from a conservative village like Airedale, I'm not surprised you haven't heard of her."

"We only had shrines to the Lightbringer and Quietus," I admit.

"Then you have a whole pantheon of lesser gods and goddesses to explore, but at least you had the main two," Arlon chuckles. "Once the dust settled, use of the main tower's resources was granted to a wizard named Eroland Lockheart with the blessing of the regent of Straetham and the grudging approval of the clerics of the Lightbringer. Once Eroland showed how useful magic could be when it was able to be stored and focused, the site was entrusted fully to him, along with the title of Grandmaster."

"What did wizards do before then?" I wonder.

"Very little, though there are notable records of a few battlefield encounters that turned the tide of a fight,” Arlon says. “Needless to say, direct casting in a situation like that wasn't comfortable or safe for any involved."

I can't stop a small laugh at the thought of fucking in the middle of a battlefield. "Thank the gods for magiline."

“Indeed,” Arlon chuckles. “Once Eroland was given full authority, he laid the foundations for what would become the Crux. Over the course of a century, the main tower was hollowed out and reinforced with stone and mortar to make it the structure we use today. He never did see the culmination of his work, but I think Eroland would be proud of what the Crux has become."

I look at the massive base of the tower with new appreciation. Arlon leads me through the maze of magiline to an area that looks far less untouched. A couple of the large pillars have been toppled, though what remains of them still shift with light in time with the others. I look at the chisel and hammer in my hand and ask, “Do you mine all material for the focuses yourself?”

“Keeping an inventory of focuses is a duty of the grandmaster of the Crux, though it’s not required that we quarry it ourselves. Faunette certainly never did, but I enjoy the work,” he says with a shrug. “I keep track of how many are made, how many are used and any that are lost. Since you currently only have a divination mastery, you haven’t had to report on the spells you’ve cast, because you don’t take a focus with you once the spell is complete.”

I’ve seen the little spell sheets that Olbric and Galiva and Cancassi fill out, but they haven’t made me do it yet. “Fucking hell, that sounds like a lot of work,” I say but quickly amend, “Sir.”

“Once you get a handle on the numbers, it’s not so bad,” he says. “Though I’ll admit, I’m still reconciling how many are missing after all of chaos with Diran and his ilk. No matter which way I look at the numbers, we’re missing between 40 and 70, which is far too many. Not to mention, whatever amount they managed to steal from the mine.” Anger colors his voice, and I can’t blame him.

“I gather that magiline is valuable,” I say. 

“Very,” Arlon says. “Even those without magic covet it as a status symbol instead of recognizing it as the very useful and finite resource that it is. You wouldn’t believe how many nobles I get knocking on my door petitioning for some magiline bauble or trophy. They still haven’t learned that I won't grant it.”

I look around the vast cave and see that only one small section of it has been carved away. “At least we’re sitting on a good store of it,” I say, and I’m unable to stop a bit of awe from leaking into my voice.

“And we have another at the mine in the Hobokins,” Arlon says. “Though from what our canvassers have discovered, it’s a small deposit. We’ll drain it and store what we find here before we reopen the mine. We’ll have to monitor the site in case more is found as they excavate further.”

I watch as he takes his own hammer and chisel and crouches over the fallen pillar. He wedges his chisel at a junction in the shining white stone. He taps it, once, twice, three times before there’s a soft _schnick._ A crack appears, and he carefully scoots the chisel down and does it again, tapping until a long, even piece breaks off. It’s only then I realize that the magiline naturally forms in pieces the shape of a honeycomb. Arlon sets the yard-long piece aside and says, “We’ll take that back upstairs where we can cut and polish it. But we need four more pieces just like that before we do, so get to work.”

“Yes sir,” I say and move to the pillar next to him. It takes my unpracticed hands far longer to separate one of the long pieces, but it’s satisfying when it does come off. The honeycomb piece really isn’t that much wider than a focus, and I realize that Arlon must just polish the edges off before hollowing out the center for the rings. He probably even uses that center piece to make the marbles.

Arlon separates three more pieces in the time it takes me to do one. When we have five rods total, Arlon bundles them together with some twine from his pocket and hands me the stack. "Don't drop them," he says. "They're rather fragile before they're trimmed down."

They're no light parcel, but I carry them over my shoulder, trying my best not to smack them against the winding stair as we head back up. I still do a couple of times, but they're light taps and don't seem to harm the magiline any.

I'm breathing hard by the time we make it back into Arlon's office. He seals the entryway behind him and says, "Though it's not exactly a secret, I don't share the entrance to the cavern with everyone. I would ask you to keep it quiet, even after this week is over."

"Yes sir, of course." I have a feeling that a lot of what I overhear this week will be confidential, and I don't intend to betray that trust. 

Arlon leads me to the anterior courtyard. I've passed by it many times, but I rarely have need to go into it, save to visit Mo. It's bigger than the main yard, though far less accommodating. It's where most of the Crux's non-magical work happens. There are a number of outer buildings - the laundry, the kitchens, the stables and the like, but Arlon leads me to a small workshop set against the outer wall. The door unlocks as he touches it, and I feel strong abjuration surrounding the building.

Inside, the floor is littered with magiline powder that sparkles like freshly fallen snow. It looks like a carpentry. There’s a long work table and various saws, measuring sticks and chisels hang on the wall. Arlon wastes no time showing me what to do, and he explains everything he does as he does it. 

First, he takes one of the magiline rods and cuts it into three more or less even pieces with a sturdy saw. He settles one of the pieces in between two padded clamps before cranking the clamp closed. "Not too tight or you'll crack it," he warns. 

Next, he takes a coring saw and sets it carefully at the center of the rod before he starts to drill in. It's a slow process, and even in the chilly workshop, Arlon starts to sweat. When the rod is cored, he hands it to me. "That's a two inch core," he says. "We want to make spheres, so use that measuring stick to mark two inch increments all the way down."

I do as I'm told and measure carefully before marking the magiline core with a charcoal pencil. Once I'm finished, Arlon checks my work before nodding and telling me to saw through the lines I've made. By the time I'm through, I've got six two inch pieces, and I've also worked up a sweat. He has me do the same to the cored piece, though he has me cut it in half inch increments for rings. 

Arlon shows me the lathe he uses to finish shaping them, but he takes that duty himself. I'm glad for it - the foot pedal that makes the thing spin gets going quick, and the sharp tools he sets against it grind so loud it makes my teeth ache. While he widens the hole on the rings and shapes the spheres, he puts me on coring and cutting duty, which is only a little less noisy.

But by mid afternoon, I'm through coring and cutting all of the pieces, though my hands are blistered and aching. If Arlon usually does all of this himself, it's no wonder his hands are so calloused. He's only slightly behind me on the lathe, and if I thought I was done, he points to the pile of shaped marbles and rings before saying, "Polish those."

I barely stop a groan. We're well past lunch and edging closer to dinner, and I don't think he's going to let us eat until we're finished. I get to work, but fortunately there's a second lathe I can use. I spin each ring and marble individually, using a cloth and a handful of sand to buff away any roughness before I hit it with an oiled cloth. When all is said and done, I have a perfect focus in my hands, shining and ready for use.

We do that hundreds more times, and when the sun goes down and snow starts to flurry, Arlon lights a fire for us to keep going. It's well past dinner and hunger gnaws at my stomach, but finally, _finally,_ I finish polishing the last one. Each rod nets us just shy of 100 focuses, giving us a total of nearly 500 in all. Arlon scoops every last one into a sack that he tosses over his shoulder before clapping me on mine. 

"Good work, Dominai."

"Thank you, sir," I say just before my stomach lets out a loud grumble.

Arlon chuckles and says, "I warned the cooks we would be working late. They will have left dinner in my office. Let's go eat."

#

After I'm fed, I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, but Arlon insists we go down to the baths. Coated in magiline dust and sweat, I can't even complain. I don't know what time it is, but it feels late - far later than I normally stay up. The fact that the baths are empty when we reach them only confirms my suspicions. 

Arlon chooses the pool in the back, and I follow his lead. Magiline dust falls from my clothes as I strip them off. Arlon’s are even more coated, and the shining powder sticks to his skin as he pulls his shirt off.

I sink into the pool with a groan, only to hiss when my blistered hands touch the hot water. 

"Let me see," Arlon says as he slides in beside me.

I hold my hands out to him, and he tsks. He washes them gently, and I see a sparkling cloud of magiline dust float off of us, turning the water silver. "Finish bathing, and I'll tend to them in my room."

"Thank you, sir."

He doesn't order me to anything, but I grab a washcloth and start to bathe the dust off him. He looks a little surprised, but not displeased as he lets me do as I like. It’s a bit of a shock to realize that this is the first time I’ve seen Arlon fully naked.

Even though I’d guess he’s about twice my age - mid to late 40s, he’s nice to look at. Sturdily built, broad and well muscled, though maybe not as much as he used to be. He’s got dark hair on his arms and chest, though just like up top, parts of it are starting to turn grey along with a few streaks through his charcoal beard. It’s obvious that he’s non-bloodline, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s why he stays covered most of the time.

I take my time. When I move on to wash his salt and pepper hair, I’m rewarded with a little sigh of pleasure. Once he rinses the soap out, I move on to the rest of him, mapping the old scars that mar his swarthy skin. As I trace a particularly impressive one across his chest, I can’t help but wonder, not for the first time, what a man like Arlon did before he came to the Crux. 

Apparently he’s not one to remain idle either, and after a few minutes of enjoying my attentions, he starts to wash the magiline dust off of me. I’m almost dozing by the time he finishes, but then he pulls me onto his lap. As tired as I am, my cock twitches inside of the cage. It's been a long, busy day, and he's barely even touched me, but now, his rough hands send a thrill up my spine.

"Did you enjoy today?" Arlon asks as his fingers brush gentle circles over my hip bones.

"Yes, sir." It almost felt like choring in the Hobokins. A long day of work that was only finished when it got done.

"We managed to do nearly twice what I can manage on my own,” he says. “Your help was appreciated.” His fingers stroke down my thighs before he toys with the cage around my cock. It sends a jolt through me, and as tired as I am, I shiver. "I think you deserve a reward."

I can't quite muffle a little sound of need. “Thank you, sir.” The cage won't come off - that much I know, but I shudder as I feel his cock stir underneath me. His finger hooks around the ring on my collar, and he stands, pulling me with him. He pushes me over the lip of the pool, resting my knees on the stone seat. It’s just enough that my ass is out of the water, my cage brushing the magiline wall of the pool. I shiver as my hands rest against the cold, wet stone, but then his slicked length prods at my hole.

He fucks me right there, his fingers hooked around my collar as he takes me from behind. He doesn't prepare me, and the stretch of his cock is borders on painful as he thrusts deep. I force myself to relax moaning as his cock drags across that sweet spot inside of me. It's a thrill to be used, a thrill to know that I can take him now, whenever and however he wants me. And tonight, he wants me rough. 

His hips snap against mine, but the grip on my collar keeps me upright, constricting just enough that I start to feel light-headed. My cries echo around the empty bath even as Arlon speeds up, reaching deep as he spears me over and over. The cage around my cock rattles with each hard thrust, a thin stream of liquid oozing from my tip and into the pool. 

In spite of my cock being locked away, I feel something building. The drag of Arlon’s length over that sweet spot inside of me wrings a low, rattling moan out of me. Pleasure builds behind my balls and at the base of my trapped cock. It's unlike anything I've ever felt before, but with every deep thrust, the pleasure mounts before reaching a tipping point.

A very different kind of orgasm rocks through me, but I know it for one all the same. Nothing else could feel so good. I shudder with release, a long quavering moan escaping me even as Arlon speeds up. Every thrust sustains it, stokes it until my mind is blank of everything else but the pleasure that seems to radiate through my whole body.

My flaccid cock dribbles cum through the bars of the cage, my exhausted body shaking as pleasure saps what little strength I have left. My arms fail to hold me up, and I collapse, laying flat against the ground and see the magiline shimmer where I touch it. Then Arlon grips my shoulders and thrusts deep as he swells inside of me. I cry out as he fills me, adding one more sensation on top of everything else. I'm staggered by it, my vision swimming as I try to make sense of what just happened. Under my cheek, the magiline lip of the pool sparks and ripples with color.

Behind me, Arlon breathes hard, his head resting against my back. For a long moment, neither of us move. Then I feel him press a kiss against the small of my back before he pulls out of my sore and used hole. “Fucking hell, Dom,” he says. He gathers me up in his arms and pulls me back into the pool and onto his lap. “Have you ever had an internal orgasm before?”

I give a small, exhausted laugh and sink bonelessly against his chest. “No, sir,” I say. “But you may have ruined regular ones for me.”

Arlon chuckles and strokes my wet hair away from my face. “Just wait until I give you both at once,” he rumbles into my ear. “Then you can say I’ve ruined you.”

I shiver and let my eyes slide closed. “I hope that’s a promise, sir.”


	5. Errand Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai is sent out on some errands and has an unexpected run-in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday and Happy Halloween! Hope the world's treating you okay. Be sure to vote on Tuesday, get your ballots turned in and maybe scream all your rage at the full moon when the veil is thin on Saturday. Hope you enjoy!

After breakfast the next morning, Arlon punishes me for cuming without his permission. It’s not my place to point out that it’s entirely his fault, so I take it in stride. “You could have wasted the conjuration you’ve been building,” he admonishes as he spanks my ass red over his lap. 

When he finally finishes - 30 smacks total that he makes me count - I move to get up, but he pushes me back down. “Now that we know you can work yourself to an internal orgasm, I’ll just have to block that entrance and use your throat for the rest of the week.”

I can’t stop a whimper at the heat in his voice. He is in a _mood_ this morning. The day’s barely even started, and he’s already shot me so hard into a headspace that I’m having trouble thinking straight. He spreads me wide as he pulls out a sizeable glass plug from his desk. I barely get a chance to glimpse it before he slicks it and pushes it into my sore hole. I flush red to the tips of my ears as it settles inside of me, sending fizzles of pleasure through me. 

“Just as with the collar, you are not allowed to remove this without permission,” he says as he gives the flared base a tug before settling it into me.

“Yes, sir,” I gasp, breathless already.

Arlon finally allows me up, and my legs shake as I get to them. I pull my trousers up, feeling full and unsatisfied with the plug in me. It makes my trapped cock ache, my face flushed.

Arlon’s smile is pure sadism as he pulls out my spell necklace from the drawer he locked it in yesterday. He hands it back to me and says, “I need you to run some errands for me.”

I take my spells from him even as my stomach drops. My eyes are wide as he pulls out a pile of sealed letters. “These need to be delivered to the merchant's guild. You’ll need to speak to a woman named Katarine. Tell her these ones are meant for our sister tower on the coast - non urgent, obviously, and these are the remains of our winter requisitions.”

He points to two small stacks that are wrapped in twine before pointing to a single letter, written on fancy parchment. “And that needs to go to the Lord Chamberlain at the palace. Do _not_ let one of her attendants take it. This needs to go into her hands only. Now, repeat those instructions back to me.”

My mind is still reeling from the fact that he plans on sending me to the _fucking palace_ with a cage around my cock and a plug in my ass. Arlon raises an eyebrow expectantly. “Ah - fuck, sir. Those two to Katarine at the merchant’s guild, that one to be sent, that one for them,” I say, pointing at each stack as I do. “And that one goes to the palace to the Lord Chamberlain only.”

“Good,” Arlon says with a smile. “Paulette has come down with a cold or she would normally deliver them herself. Fortunately, you’re here, so I told her that it was in capable hands.”

My face feels hot enough to catch fire. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon grabs a few coins from his pocket and hands them over as he says, “While you are out, you are allowed to speak, eat and do whatever necessary functions you must while you’re away. Be sure you stop and grab lunch, and bring me back a meat pie. Not from that place on Hilltop either - get one from Mabel.”

I swear under my breath as I take the coins and put them into my own pocket. “What was that, Dominai?”

“I - fuck. Nothing, sir,” I say and draw in a breath to try and calm myself down. Of all the things I expected Arlon to put me through this week, leaving the Crux was _not_ one of them. I don’t like the city much anyway - it’s too loud, too busy. But the idea of going out like this sends a very different kind of dread through me.

Arlon’s expression softens. He gets up and takes my spell necklace from my hands before he drapes it around my neck. He puts the letters in my hands before he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You can do this, Dom,” he says gently. “Trust yourself. I would never send you out if I didn’t think it was safe to do so. I know you can be polite, and that will be all that’s required of you at the palace.”

I draw in a breath and let it out like I’m about to go into the silver. I do that a few more times, letting his words sink in. I can do this, right? I can do this. I rub my hand over my face and say, “Yes, sir.”

Arlon smiles, and I see something like pride on his face. He presses one more kiss to the top of my head. “Dress warm.”

#

I grab my winter cloak, a scarf to cover my collar, and a bag to carry the letters in before I head out. It’s dumb luck that I see Galiva walk across the drawbridge just ahead of me. Relief floods me when I realize I won’t have to make the trip in alone. I hurry to catch up to her, though it makes the bulb in me shift in a way I can’t ignore. I’m happy to walk again as I fall into step beside her. 

“Well look who’s been let off the leash,” she teases. 

“No leash yet, though I wouldn't put it past Arlon,” I say with a lopsided grin.

“And talking too!” 

I lift up the messenger bag. “I’m a delivery boy today,” I say. “Though I think I prefer being a fuckboy, honestly.”

“You’ll do fine,” she promises. “I don’t know why you make such a big deal out of the city.”

“It’s big! And loud! And there’s, like, five thousand people in it!”

Galiva snorts. “Try forty thousand.”

“Not helping!”

Galiva chuckles, and I give a grudging smile. I hadn’t realized how much I missed that sound these past few days. "Will it help if I stick with you until we’re past the marketplace?” she asks.

The market is always overwhelming, what with folks shouting at me from every angle to buy something. Not to mention, the last time I went into town with Olbric, some urchin swiped my purse. “Yeah, it would,” I say through a sigh, though I feel a little silly for admitting it. I’m a grown ass man - it shouldn’t be a big deal to go into town. "Where are you headed?"

"To visit Bridgette’s apothecary first," she says. "Then I'm picking up another shift at the clinic. Since Garrett’s been out east, they’re down their only corpimancer, and we’re low on some supplies.”

“Yeah? I didn’t realize you were doing non-magical healing,” I say.

Galiva shrugs. “Part of a corpimancy mastery means knowing what natural remedies will work when magical ones can't. Speaking of, what the hell did you do to your hands?"

"Oh." I look down at the neat bandages Arlon had wrapped last night. "Yesterday was a long day of helping Arlon make focuses. It's just a couple of blisters."

Galiva chuckles. "He really is working you to the bone, isn't he?"

"It was fun," I say with a shrug. "Informative." And ended in the most intense orgasm I've ever had, but I don't say that out loud.

"You and I have very different definitions of fun," she chuckles. "I hope he rewarded you well for that."

My finger finds the ring on my collar as I grin. "Oh, he did.”

Galiva gives me a sly grin. “So you're enjoying being collared?"

"I am. Quite a lot," I say even though it feels strange to admit. This whole week, I've felt the same surrender of responsibility that abjuration gives me, but amplified tenfold. Never in my life did I expect to be walking towards the palace in Straetham with my cock in a cage and a plug in my ass, but I'm doing it because the decision isn't up to me. "It's… freeing in a twisted sort of way."

Galiva smiles at that. "Arlon collared me for my abjuration mastery so I definitely understand what you mean," she says. "He has a way of empowering you even while he's taken your power away."

I humm thoughtfully even though I'm stuck on the image of Galiva naked and collared. It's a pretty picture. "Do you think it'll help with your casting block?" she asks, snapping me out of it.

"I hope so," I say. "If nothing else, he's certainly given me some ideas."

"I'll bet," Galiva says with a sly grin. "Arlon is nothing if not an efficient and sadistic caster."

The second the words leave her mouth, the bulb inside of me starts to buzz. It catches me so off guard, I nearly trip. I grab Galiva’s arm for support. "Shit! Are you alright?"

"Fucking hell," I moan miserably when I realize that the godsdamn plug has a focus sealed in it. It went in so quick I didn't get a chance to see it.

"Ooh," she says in understanding. "He's sent you out with something in you, hasn't he."

"How the hell is it just _now_ buzzing?"

Galiva chuckles. "They can be activated a lot of ways. My guess is he has a linked focus that he touches whenever he wants to turn it on."

"Of course he does," I say, but sigh as the buzzing relents. "Why do I get the feeling he's going to do that at the _worst_ times."

"Oh, you can count on it."

I groan and rub my face but start walking again. The thrum of pleasure starts to subside, but it takes a few long moments before I can think straight again. The ache in my cock never quite goes away. At least it gives me something other than my nerves to focus on. 

“Where are you heading?” she asks.

“Taking some letters to the merchant’s guild,” I say and pat my bag. “Then sir is sending me to the palace to drop off something with the Lord Chamberlain.” Galiva gives me a look, and it takes me a long second to realize what I’ve said. “Fuck - Arlon, I mean.”

Galiva chuckles at that. "Gods, you're still half in it, aren't you? The perfect conduit."

I flush and try to snap myself out of it, though Galiva's right. With all that's hidden under my clothes, Arlon's hold is strong, even though he's back at the Crux. That thought alone makes a thrill of pleasure tighten my gut, and I realize just how much I've given to him.

"I'm a little afraid what'll happen once this week is over," I admit.

"What do you mean?"

I sigh and rub the back of my neck. "I just… I've never fallen into it this deep before," I say. "Never given quite as much as I have with him. I'm… afraid I won't know how to bounce back when I'm no longer bound to him."

"Aah," she says in understanding. "Collaring can be pretty emotional. It creates a unique kind of bond between the conduit and their caster. Arlon knows that better than most - it's why he doesn't collar very often and why he's very picky about who he does it with. It's just as emotional and personal for him. He isn't just going to drop you after the week is over."

I let out a long breath, but hearing her say it takes a little bit of the weight off. "Thanks Gal.”

"Besides, I'll personally be happy once you're freed," she says. "Olbric's been too busy talking transmutation with Cancassi to cast. I’ve done some more divination with Margeurite and Allisande, but helping at the clinic has taken most of my time. I'm getting bored and pincushioned just doing corpimancy by myself."

I laugh at that and kiss her cheek. "I miss you, too."

We part ways just past the main marketplace, though Galiva gives me good directions to get me where I need to go. It’s never not busy, and I’m left alone to cut through the crowd near the back of the market. Yet even without her, the nerves I had felt about going into the city diminish some.

Fortunately, the merchant’s guild isn’t easy to miss. It’s a large collection of buildings just off the main stretch of the market. I find the red building Galiva had told me about, and just make it to the front door when the bulb starts to buzz again. I swear and let go of the handle to lean against the wall. I bite back a moan as I ride it out, eyes clenched shut. I don’t know how long it goes on for, but when it finally stops, I let out a shaking breath and rub the heat from my face before I head inside.

The petite woman behind the desk gives me an odd look. “Are you sick?” she asks, eyeing me warily. It’s only then I realize she could see me through the window. 

“I-no, I’m fine,” I say, even though my ears redden all over again. “Grandmaster Arlon sent me with missives from the Crux.”

“Ah,” the woman says, as if being a wizard explains away any strangeness. “I’ll go get Katarine. Have a seat.”

I do as asked and find a seat on the chair in the corner just as the bulb starts up again. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying and failing to focus on anything else. It’s a few minutes later when I realize someone is talking to me.

“Hey - hey wizard!” 

I snap my eyes open to see an older, rather severe woman frowning down at me. Her brown skin is only a little lighter than Galiva’s and her arms are crossed over her chest impatiently, one eyebrow reaching up into her curly grey hair. “You’ve got something you need sent?” she asks.

With the plug still buzzing away, I swear and get to my feet. “Yes, sorry,” I say and clear my throat, trying my best to hide the tremor in it. “Here.” I reach into the bag and pull out the two letter bundles. It takes me a second to remember which one is which. “These are requisitions for the Crux, and these meant for our sister tower on the coast.”

Katarine takes them with a nod, though she’s still giving me an odd look out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve got some for you to take back,” she says and goes to an assortment of cubbies behind the desk. She pulls out the stack of letters as, somehow, the buzzing gets more intense. I bite back a whimper as Katarine comes back over. 

On top of the stack is a letter that has been marked with a score of red across the front. “This just came in from Cairish on the edge of the Gonia desert. One of our caravans just brought it in today. It’s been six months in transit, but the Shykh requested it be sent to the Crux as quick as we could get it here. The rest is the standard incoming.”

The plug finally relents, and I let out a long, shaky sigh as I take the letters. “I’ll be sure it gets to the grandmaster,” I say.

Katarine is already going through the requisitions list. “You can tell Arlon and Paulette my runners will have most of this for them next week,” she says.

“Thank you.”

Katarine gives me a wan smile, looking me over once more before and says, “Don’t let him run you too hard.”

I can’t stop a lopsided grin and double check that my collar is covered. “Yes, ma’am.”

It’s a relief to leave, though now I have no choice but to head towards the palace. It’s impossible to miss - a stone monolith on top of the hill of Straetham. It’s also deceptively far away, and takes me the better part of an hour to get there. The plug goes off three times during the trip, and at one point, it gets so intense that I have to lean against a building and focus on keeping my legs under me until it stops. 

So with my cock throbbing in the cage, I walk up to the main gates of the palace. Two guards are posted, but one comes out to meet me, armor gleaming and spear in hand. “What business do you have?” he asks. He somehow manages to sound bored and arrogant at the same time.

“I’m from the Crux,” I say and pull out my spell necklace. I regret not wearing my robes, but as nice as they are, they aren’t warm. “I have a message from Grandmaster Arlon for the Lord Chamberlain.”

The guard smirks as he looks me over, creating a dimple in his cheek to match the one in his chin. “Give it here, thot. I’ll take it to her,” he says. 

I bristle at the slur and stand a little straighter. I’m not about to let this asshole tell me what to do. Arlon had been very specific with his instructions. “I’m to deliver it to her directly,” I say. The guard’s smirk disappears as his eyes narrow, but I don’t back down. I really just want to go home, and this guy’s the last thing standing in my way. “Look, I’ve got nothing left to do today but deliver this message, so you could save us both a lot of time and tongue wagging if you just let me do my job.” 

I idly toy with a focus on my necklace, and I see something like unease flash across the guard’s face. He glances back at his buddy before he gives me a once over, expression bordering on disgust. “Follow me.”

I flash my brightest grin and follow him through the gates. He leads me across an expansive courtyard and into a large atrium. If I thought the Crux was lavish, it’s got nothing on this place. Marble inlaid with gold vines rest underfoot while lush red curtains frame the glass windows. A large chandelier hangs overhead, and I’m a little surprised to see the same magical globes we use at the Crux inlaid instead of candles. 

We cast that spell a couple times throughout the summer, and I can’t help but grin at the memory. I bet it’d make this guy’s hair curl telling him how we do it. I keep the information to myself as the guard turns to me, still frowning.

“Wait here,” he says before he sweeps off down one of the many halls. 

I watch him go before letting out a long, low whistle as I look at the grandeur around me. It’s a whole lot of money spent on a room that’s practically empty. What a fucking waste. There’s not even a chair for me to sit in while I wait. Instead, I walk over to the window and glance out. 

There’s another courtyard, but even more lavish than the one I came through. It’s filled with carefully tended trees that have started to shed their red and orange leaves in colorful puddles. I see a group of finely dressed people emerge from the far arch to head down the colorful path, but Arlon chooses that moment to start buzzing again.

I swear and flush hot, stepping out of sight of the window. I bite back a moan and lean my head against the wall, all too aware that anyone could walk from one of these halls and see me. I press my hand over the cage, using my cloak as cover as I vainly try to rub myself for any relief. I can't, obviously, and I groan as I imagine Arlon smiling behind his desk. My cock throbs, and my legs tremble by the time it finally turns off. I swear and straighten up, trying to shake it off, though no matter what I do, I can’t get the heat to fade from my face. 

Fortunately and unfortunately, the asshole of a guard is in no hurry, because I must wait the better part of an hour. The plug goes off five more times, and I realize that Arlon’s little reminders are coming more often. It’s past lunch, so I bet he’s wondering where the hell I am. 

I start to wonder if the guard has abandoned me here when I hear footsteps coming down one of the halls. I turn in time to come face to face with a silver-haired woman, dressed from neck to ankle in blue finery. I look at how stiff she’s holding her neck and realize my collar has nothing on that outfit. On her lapel is a gold crest of rearing griffins that I recognize as the King’s seal. I clear my throat before I ask, “My Lord Chamberlain?”

“Yes,” she says sourly. “And who are you?”

“Master Dominai of the Crux,” I say before I pull out Arlon’s letter. “Grandmaster Arlon asked me to deliver this to you.”

“Something of utmost importance, I’m sure,” she says, and sounds none too pleased that I’m here. She snatches the letter out of my hand and pulls the wax seal open. Her eyes scan the page, and her scowl deepens. It just now strikes me that I wish I knew what it said.

I hear others coming down the hall and wonder if some meeting just got finished. Their voices sound like so many clucking hens as they echo off the high walls. They round the corner, but as soon as they catch sight of me, they fall quiet. I look over and my stomach lurches, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck. 

I bow low to avoid the eyes of King Thermilious. I’ve never seen him before, but the thin gold crown that rests on top of his head and the gold embroidered finery he wears makes him impossible to mistake.

"Who is this?" he asks, his voice clipped and cultured.

"Master Dominai of the Crux," the Lord Chamberlain says. "And he brought this."

I straighten and try not to stare as I take the young king in. He's got to be a few years younger than me, but the gold circlet that rests on his dark brown hair seems to add years to him. He’s got a pale face that looks like it could be sculpted from marble, and I see echoes of Allisande in his features. I can’t help but admit that he’s one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. 

Ice blue eyes skim over Arlon's letter, his expression carefully neutral. When he's finished, he hands the letter back to me. "You may tell Grandmaster Arlon that my answer remains the same," he says. "He was unable to extract information about Diran Barclay's whereabouts the first time, and I have no faith a second time will prove fruitful. Besides, by the end of the month, he will no longer have to worry about Jaret Voss and Lucien Carter."

I feel the heat vanish from my face. Oh fuck. Of course this is about the rogue wizards. It takes me a second to find my voice, and I hope to the gods I’m addressing him correctly. "I'm not sure what you mean, Sire."

The look he gives me is hard as stone. "I will send notice when the execution date is set,” he says. “Be sure that Grandmaster Arlon is informed."

I bow again, my heart in my throat. "Yes, your Majesty."

#

"There you are. I was just starting to worry," Arlon says when I enter his office. He’s seated behind his desk, going through a stack of spell notes. He’s got a log book in front of him that he squints down at through a pair of spectacles. When I don’t answer, he looks up. "What's wrong?"

I hand him back his own letter first. He frowns as he takes it, and that frown deepens when I tell him what the king said. Arlon runs a hand over his face as he leans back in his chair, looking tired. "I was a fool to turn Jaret and Lucien over to the royal authorities so quickly," he says. "The interrogation I conducted on the road was less than my best."

I bow low and it's enough to get a small smile out of him. "Speak freely."

"Do you think they know something?" I ask. Allisande, Margeurite and I have had no luck divining anything about Diran. It’s been infuriating knowing that Diran is still out there yet turning up fuck all in spite of our best efforts.

Arlon’s expression darkens. "I'm sure of it.”

"Then why the _hell_ won't he give you a second shot at them?"

Arlon sighs. "You’re still new to Straetham politics," he mutters, sounding, somehow, even more tired. "The Barclays are tied to the crown of the kingdom of Immenbach on the coast. They’re a powerful house, holding a large amount of land and wealth. Though they swore fealty to Straetham generations ago, recently… fractures have been appearing. If Thermilious allowed us to interrogate the captured wizards - _if_ we found Diran, it would put him in a… precarious position. Retaliation against Diran could start a war with Immenbach, though the Barclays have patently refused to condemn Diran's actions. So, instead of entertaining _that_ whole mess, Thermilious refuses my petitions and hopes that Diran has the sense to stay away, or return to the safety of his home for good."

I stare at Arlon, my hands clenched into fists. "Diran kidnapped and _raped_ his cousin and four others! And Thermilious is just going to sit there with his thumbs up his ass because he's too afraid of pissing the Barclays off?"

Arlon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "So it would seem," he mutters. "This just means we'll have to find him another way. As far as I'm concerned, the fact that Diran’s a disgraced wizard of the Crux means that this is a matter of magical importance. By the king's own decree, that means it is _my_ jurisdiction.”

Anger simmers behind Arlon's eyes, and I can't stop a shiver. I remember that look from when we first found the goblin hovel Diran had made into a prison. “I intend to find him. I’ll apologize to Thermilious later.” He sighs, and the anger is replaced by weariness. He pulls his glasses off and rubs his eyes. "I’m sorry Dom, I didn’t realize you would encounter the king during this trip.” 

My grin comes out crooked. "Well, sir, you missed nearly bringing me to orgasm in front of him by a whole five minutes," I say. Just after I had left the palace, the damn plug had started buzzing again, so intense that I thought I was going to finish like I had in the baths last night.

He gives a bark of a laugh as I hand over the other missives. I smile, flushing with warmth at the sound. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh before. "There's an urgent one from Cairish on top, sir."

Arlon gives a longsuffering sigh and slices through the wax seal with a small dagger on his desk. It’s like he already knows what it is. He barely reads it, but his brow furrows anyway. He scoffs and tosses it onto his desk in disgust. "Certainly not urgent," he mutters. "Just another threat from the Cairish Shykh claiming I have corrupted his son. Every time a caravan passes by the desert, he sends an urgent missive to remind me."

I can't stop a grin. "To be fair, sir. If he’s at the Crux, you probably have."

Arlon snorts. "No more than you, I'm sure," he says. At my questioning look, he says, "The shykh's son is Olbric."

My voice emerges in croak. “Oh.”

Arlon chuckles and gets up, coming around his desk to plant a kiss on my forehead. “Was going into town as bad as you thought it would be?” he asked.

“Not until that last part,” I admit. Looking back, it seems silly that I had been as nervous as I was. Arlon pulls me against his chest, and his arms are a comforting weight around me.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says. “You missed lunch by over an hour.”

I sigh and sink against him. “I’m glad to be back, sir.” Today was a whole lot of people and a whole lot of talking after not talking for half a week. Not to mention one very nerve-wracking conversation too many. But then I remember the one thing I didn’t do.

“Oh hell.”

“What?”

I groan and bury my face into his thick shirt. “I forgot lunch.”

Arlon strokes my back before his hand slides up my neck and into my hair. He grips hard and pulls my head back, surprising a gasp out of me. He tilts my head aside, and I tense, but he only presses a deliberately soft kiss against my neck. “Then we’ll just have to wait until after dinner to take a trip downstairs.”

I shudder at the promise in his voice. His mood hasn’t gone anywhere while I was away. “Yes, sir."


	6. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai endures his punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Y'all get a twofer this week! I couldn't just post ch 6 on it's own after the harrowing election week the US has been through, so you get ch 7 as the palate cleanser we all need. This chapter doesn't exactly warrant a content warning, but it definitely gets spicy. 
> 
> Also, there's a new Tales from the Crux, featuring Olbric trying divination with Cancassi and Marguerite that's finished and online! Check out my twitter @AletheaFaust to see where it's posted! (It'll appear here in a couple of weeks, after a certain chapter of the main story is posted). 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and your kind comments! Hope you enjoy!

I'm allowed to have dinner clothed and seated, which only makes me wonder how bad my punishment is going to be after. Arlon's given me an hour to do whatever I need to, so I eat quick before hurrying to the baths to use the facilities and take a quick rinse. I clean the plug in the sink before I ease it back into me with a shiver, both anticipating and dreading what Arlon has planned.

My nerves thrum as I head back into his office, but he's not there. Instead, the door to the dungeon is open and lit. I walk past his desk and head down the stairs, my hand brushing the cold stone wall. Below, the lights are dimmed, and I barely step onto the floor before something falls over my eyes. 

"Be still," Arlon says when I jump. "No talking. You aren't allowed to speak until you have formed a proper apology."

I shiver, biting my lip to stop my normal response and nod. He finishes tightening the blindfold around my head, and I realize it's leather, not cloth. My clothes come off shortly after, Arlon’s hands are rough and efficient as he strips me. He lifts my spell necklace off last, leaving me with nothing but my cage, the plug and my collar. Heavy metal manacles snap over my wrists, and just like that, I'm trapped. 

"Your punishment will start with illusion and evocation tonight," Arlon says, though the way he emphasizes _start_ makes my stomach clench. It’s a bit of a jolt to realize that of all the things we’ve done this week, these will be the first spells he’s gotten out of me. Going off how my nerves are already singing, they’ll be strong ones, too.

The manacles tug, and I blindly follow, my heart racing. The short chain linking them jingles as my arms are pulled over me and hooked onto something. I'm put on my toes and can't stop a quiet whimper of anticipation. He's certainly not fucking around tonight. 

He makes quick work of the ropes around my chest, tying a standard abjuration bind so whatever evocation he's casting can be released safely. The ropes bite against my skin every time I draw a breath in. 

“Comfortable?” he asks.

“Yes -” I start, but he grabs my chin and gives me a rough shake.

“What did I say about talking?” The low growl of his warning makes me snap my mouth shut.

He grabs my ankle and folds my leg before resting it against his thigh. A rope weaves around my thigh and shin, tying it so my leg stays bent. He leaves a length of rope free that he uses to cinch me up, stretching my hip as my leg is forced out and up. I hang, half suspended, my right foot planted on the ground. On one foot, I wobble unsteadily, but the ropes and manacles keep me from falling over, though it leaves my ass and thighs dangerously exposed. 

Then I feel a hand on my hip even as another tugs at the base of the bulb inside of me. I whimper as it starts to buzz, sending a thrill of pleasure through me. I can’t so much as wiggle away as he toys with it, twisting it and tugging it until it almost slips out before letting it settle back in. He moves to my caged cock, fingers playing with my balls before he cups my trapped length.

“I bet you’d like this off, wouldn’t you?” he rumbles. I purse my lips and nod, even as my cock throbs. “That’s too bad. Rewards are only given to those who earn them. If you hadn’t forgotten my lunch, I might have considered. I was feeling so merciful earlier.”

I whimper, even though I know it’s not true. He made it clear he was going to keep it on the whole week, and I don’t doubt that he will. But my cock doesn’t know any better, and it aches in protest, trying and failing to swell to length inside of the cage.

Arlon tsks and lets go of me. I hear his footsteps across the stone floor before he comes back. “And since I’m not going to risk ruining the conjuration you’re building, I’ll just have to loosen your throat up.” 

Something pushes past my teeth, blunt and long. A phallus, I realize, that slides deep into my mouth, just enough to tickle at the back of my throat. Straps fasten around my head to hold it there, and I groan around the gag. My mouth floods with spit, as if I'm trying to wash it away. It forces me to swallow around the phallus, and I draw in a few deep breaths through my nose.

Arlon’s rough fingers cup my chin and force my head up, tilting it one direction and then the other. I can’t see him, but I can feel the intensity of his gaze as he examines me. “Four days is all it’s taken,” he says. “Four days to turn you into a perfectly obedient fuckboy of a conduit. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

I find myself leaning into his hand, nuzzling his fingers as I nod. He chuckles, and I feel six focuses slide down my fingers, three to each hand. He lets go of me, and my chin drops as far as the collar will allow. I’m left gagged and blind and hanging and _trembling_ as I try to pick out his footsteps over my own thudding heart.

The buzzing of the bulb intensifies. I moan around the gag and realize the longer I’m forced to swallow around it, the less my throat protests it being there. My world narrows down to the bite of the manacles, the rub of the ropes, and Arlon’s voice. I’m already floating half out of my body, and he hasn’t even hurt me yet.

"From the spells that Olbric has turned in, it appears that you're rather fond of a flogger," Arlon says from somewhere behind me. "Let's see how you like this one."

I barely get out a whimper before it cracks against my back. The tresses are thinner and far more numerous than what Olbric’s used on me in the past, and they sting like hell as they snap sharply against my back. I can't stop a grunt as my skin fizzles with pain, but I'm not given time to recover. Another strike lands, and I shout around the gag as the tendrils of it curl around my side. 

He sets an agonizingly steady pace. _Crack_ against my thighs. _Crack_ against my ass. _Crack_ against my back. He is relentless, though the strength behind each lash never varies. He’s perfectly controlled, perfectly accurate with every strike. I feel the heat spread across my back and ass as he starts to speed up, even as the buzzing of the plug gets stronger.

Then, Arlon changes directions, and I yelp as the flogger lashes up between my legs. It licks across my inner thighs and ass, and for once I'm glad the cage is there to keep the stinging tresses from hitting my cock. I wail miserably, but he doesn’t relent. I feel the lines of fire start to rise across the tender flesh there as he cracks the flogger on my thighs over and over.

I don't know how long I endure. When he gets tired of hitting me from behind, he moves on to my chest until my sweat stings the welts he creates. 

A strangled little whimper of pain escapes me, and I shake, braced and tense for the next strike. But it never comes. Arlon pulls the focuses off of my fingers even as the bulb inside of me stops buzzing. I gasp in the brief moment of reprieve and hang limp, feeling the manacles dig into my wrists. 

“I’m impressed, Dominai,” Arlon says, though his voice sounds like it’s reaching me through water. Warped and a little garbled. “With just a flogging, you managed to charge all six of them.”

I feel the rope around my leg loosen. Arlon sets it down, though it feels like I’ve forgotten how to use it. My thighs brush together, and I whimper anew at the sting of the hot welts he’s left behind. The ropes around my chest go next, and I draw in a deep breath, trying to ground myself for whatever happens next. 

The blindfold is unclasped and lifted, though I feel where my tears have built up behind it. I blink and squint at Arlon, but my eyes refuse to focus on him. He cups my cheek and brushes his thumb under my eyes, clearing away what’s left of my tears.

“Are you alright, Dominai?” Without thinking, I nod. His white smile is the one thing I can focus on, and it’s a relief to see it. “Good. Because we’ll move on to enchantment next.”

I whimper, but whatever is holding my manacles up releases. Arlon steadies me, though the shackles stay on. He grabs me roughly by the collar and leads me over to a padded rug before he pushes me to my knees. Arlon grabs my shackled hands and puts six more focuses around my fingers before he shoves me onto all fours. I yelp as he grabs the base of the plug and pulls it out of me. I raise my ass up in offering, a low moan escaping around the gag.

“Do you think I’m pulling this out so I can fuck your hole?” he asks. He grabs my hair and forces my cheek to the ground. “You don’t deserve my cock. Careless fuckboys don’t get a real cock until they earn it.”

Then, he’s straddling my chest, sitting backwards on top of me. His weight forces my shoulders to the ground, even as he pulls my ass up. Something cold and wet drops onto my hole, and I can’t stop a yelp of surprise as the blunt tip of a phallus stretches me. I cry out around the gag as Arlon starts to fuck me with it, plunging deep. Though the plug had stretched me all day, I’m still sore from last night. I shout around the gag, fingers digging into the rug as I take it.

“Only six months in and your ass can take a cock like a trained whore,” he hisses as he tugs at my balls. “By the time you’ve properly apologized, your ass will be too loose to satisfy me.”

That rings a genuine wail out of me. All I want is to satisfy him. To make up for whatever it is that I’ve done wrong. I can’t even remember now. My world has narrowed down to Arlon’s punishment and the fact that I deserve it. Whatever he does to my body it isn’t my concern anymore, because I’ve earned this. It’s his choice to use me whatever way he wants.

The phallus slides out of me, and I shudder in relief as Arlon’s weight lifts. His finger hooks through my collar again, and he drags me off of the rug and onto the cold stone. My knees hit the metal grate built into the floor with a clang. The gag is unbuckled from my face, and Arlon pulls it off, taking the phallus out with it. I cough, spit dripping from my mouth as I blink hard. I look up just in time to see Arlon release his cock. 

But he doesn’t thrust it into my mouth. Instead, I hear him groan just as something hot hits my chest. I gasp and flinch away, a hard shudder rushing through me as I realize what he’s doing. 

He’s pissing on me. And I deserve it. 

I hear him sigh as he shakes his cock off on me before tucking it away again. I can’t stop shaking, even as he reaches for a handle on the wall and pulls. I barely have time to register what’s happening before a torrent of cold water douses me. I don’t even have the strength to scream as the water jolts me unpleasantly back into myself.

When the torrent finally passes, I look up at Arlon through my dripping hair. I see his white grin before it abruptly disappears. His eyes go wide as they meet mine. “Stop,” he breathes. “Stop.” 

I blink and he's in front of me, unlocking the manacles and cupping my face. I’m shivering so hard I feel like I’ll fall apart, but his warm hands help hold me together. His mouth moves, but the words don’t quite make it into my ears. One hand disappears and a towel is draped around me before he’s giving me a gentle shake. “Dom, _say something.”_

I find Arlon’s face and blink again as he swims into focus. The caster is gone, and instead, I see a very worried grandmaster in his place. I frown in confusion, but when I find my voice, it comes out rough. “Why’d you stop?”

Arlon looks at me in open shock before he gives an amazed laugh. He pulls me into a tight embrace as he kisses my wet hair. He wraps the towel firmly around me before he picks me up. 

I slump against him, and I think I must doze, because the next thing I know, we’re back in his rooms. A hot bath has been drawn in his private wash. He’s still fully clothed as he carries me into the water. I hiss as it stings my welts, but the fizzle of discomfort helps clear my head a little. I sink in, letting the water rise up to my collar as Arlon settles behind me. His hands are gentle as he strokes over my shoulders and chest, waiting patiently for my senses to come back to me. I tilt my head back against his chest and look up to see him watching me worriedly. 

“Why did you stop?” I ask again.

Arlon strokes my cheek as he looks down at me. I don’t see the caster or the grandmaster anymore. He’s just Arlon now, exposed and vulnerable. He lets out a shuddering sigh. “I am not the type of caster who enjoys breaking people,” he says. “I like to test boundaries, push limits, but Dom, I looked at you, and you looked… shattered. I’ve never felt so cruel.”

Words are still slow to come, and I don’t know what to say to that anyway. Instead, I let my head fall back against his chest. Arlon lets out a long breath. "I am so sorry," he says, his voice layered with guilt. "I know your history with enchantment. Coupled with the day I put you through today, I pushed you too far. I… let the frustrations of today fuel me." He sighs, and rubs his eyes, that same weariness creeping onto his face again. "We can end your collaring tonight."

That sends a jolt of fear through me, banishing the haze of conspace. "What? No!" I turn around and straddle his waist, my hands tangling in the wet collar of his shirt. "Please, _please_ don't send me away yet."

I can’t imagine ending it now. Don’t think I could stand it. Arlon looks at me in surprise before he cups my cheek. I lean into his touch, feeling the drop catch up to me as tears well to my eyes. 

He guides my lips to his, kissing me gently, almost tenderly. "I’m not going to send you away," he says. He pulls me against his chest with a sigh as the tears spill over. 

Arlon just holds me, arms a comfortable weight around me. He talks me through it, whispering gentle reassurance and praise against my ear. I cry myself out, though even after the tears stop, it’s some time until my shaking subsides. 

When it does, I'm exhausted. The torrent of emotion passes, leaving nothing but confusion behind. When I speak, my voice comes out rough. “I don’t want to end this early.” I look up at him, meeting his eyes. “Do you?”

His face is so full of longing that I know the answer before he says it. “No,” he says. “But Dom, you have to understand… you are both the best and worst kind of conduit for me to have collared. Tonight proves that when you’re in the right headspace, you will allow me to do _anything_ to you. And if I’m not careful, I will take advantage of that.” He sighs, his fingers stroking through my hair. “I certainly did tonight. I pushed you too deep.”

I lean into his touch and swallow the lump in my throat. “Did I do something wrong?” I ask. My grip on everything that happened is still blurry. Stopping never even registered as an option, but if it had, would I have done it? I still don’t know.

“No - _no,_ of course not,” Arlon says and presses a kiss to my forehead. He takes my hand and pulls the forgotten focuses off of my fingers with an amazed laugh. “Gods be damned, you manage to charge these, too. I don’t think you understand what a feat it is to charge _twelve focuses_ in a session without ever reaching climax.”

I flush even as I take one of the focuses and roll it between my fingers. I can feel it’s enchantment, and a strong one at that. Arlon sighs and says, “You really are an incredible kind of wizard. You experience everything so acutely. You trust implicitly, and your desire to please is deeper ingrained than your own self-preservation. I’ve learned this about you this week, and yet in the heat of it, I felt like I was casting with Garrett, and not a wizard still in his first year. You… are truly beautiful in your submission, but the moment I got a good look at your face, I knew I’d gone too far with you.”

It’s a bit of a jolt to realize that he’s right. It's only as I start to come up that I realize how deep in it I was. I truly would have let him do anything. A shiver of unease rushes through me. "I kept thinking that I deserved it," I say after a moment. "I… think I forgot I could stop." 

Arlon tightens his embrace on me. It’s only when I feel a shiver run through him that I realize how shaken he is by this. “It sounds like I untethered you from reality. That’s a dangerous place for a conduit to be,” he says. “I could have seriously hurt you if I hadn’t realized it.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” I promise. I pull away from him so I can get a good look at his face. I read the guilt and worry there, and all I want to do is see it gone. Maybe it’s part of that desire to please, but I don’t like seeing him look so upset.

I feel bold as I lean forward and catch his lips in a kiss, feeling the scruff of his beard. Arlon sighs as he returns it. When I finally pull back, I know I’m red to the tips of my ears. “Thank you for looking out for me when I didn’t have the sense to.”

Arlon looks at me, head tilted with something like amusement. At least the guilt and worry have faded. “Are you sure you want to finish this week?” he asks. “I would never blame you for wanting to stop.”

I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished talking. “I don’t want to stop.” He sighs, and it sounds a little like relief. “Arlon, I trust you. I can’t imagine stopping this now. Even once this week is over… it’s going to be hard.” My grin is lopsided as I say, “You’re my kind of caster.”

He looks at me in surprise before he starts to laugh. It starts soft, but grows to a full belly laugh that makes the water around us ripple. He pulls me into a tight embrace and tugs the collar down just a little before he plants his lips on my neck and sucks hard. I yelp, feeling a bruise pop up instantly. “And you are my kind of conduit, Dominai,” he says. “We will finish this week, and we will talk about what comes after it is over. I promise that I will take care of you.”

I smile and let my eyes side closed. “I know you will.”


	7. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai gets to catch up with Olbric.

The next morning, I wake up in Arlon's bed, so hot I can hardly stand it. I kick my leg out from under the blanket but Arlon's heavy arm tightens around my waist, pulling me snugly against his chest. He's like sleeping with a godsdamn furnace, but there's no escaping now. Behind me, his breathing is still low and steady, and it makes me shiver as it brushes my neck. 

I manage to wiggle part way out from under the covers, and the cool air is a relief. The sun is just starting to turn the sky outside of Arlon's window gold, but it's enough to see the map of welts he left on my skin. He’d spent a good amount of time tending to me last night. The salve he used certainly helped, but some of the lines are still raised and red. My wrists and knees are sporting some rather pretty colors as well. Feeling how sore I am today makes me all the more grateful Arlon stopped when he did.

I realize I’m not going anywhere, so I doze until he starts to stir. He yawns before pressing a kiss against the back of my neck. “How are you feeling?" he asks quietly.

"Comfortable," I mutter. "Sore, but nothing too bad."

“Good,” Arlon says. “And how’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet,” I smirk and am rewarded with Arlon’s snort. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. The drop last night was… rough, but I’m alright.”

His arms tighten a little around my waist, almost protective. “You’re sure?”

I roll so I can look at him. I want him to see how sure I am. “Positive,” I promise. After a full night’s rest, I’m even more certain I want to finish out the rest of the week. I had some time to sort through everything. 

“I think I figured out what happened. Why I didn’t stop,” I say. Enchantment has always been tricky for me, but this morning, something clicked. He waits for me to continue, his fingers gentle as they stroke through my hair. “You called it my desire to please,” I say, even as I feel my face get hot. “And I think it played a big part. I… hated feeling like I had disappointed you. The deeper I got, the more I was willing to do to make it up to you.”

“You didn’t disappoint me,” Arlon says, and even though he made that clear last night, the extra assurance is nice to hear. “Gods know I was looking for an excuse to take you downstairs, and it still took four whole days for you to forget one of the orders I put on you. But that’s the thing, Dom - I _expect_ my conduits to fail eventually. It’s part of my casting style. 

“There are times where I’ll set my conduit up for failure just so I get an _excuse_ to punish them. It’s part of the game for me - when you succeed, I reward you, and when you fail, I punish you.” He chuckles and adds, “Either way, I come out the winner. And I’m always proud of my conduit, whether that’s because they’ve succeeded at something they were meant to fail, or endured whatever bullshit I decide to put them through.” He cups my cheek, his thumb stroking under my lip. “I’m _always_ proud.”

I lean into his hand with a sigh. As strange as it is to admit, last night was good for me. It was a hard lesson, but I’m starting to understand my limits with enchantment a little better. Not to mention, so much of my nerves around casting come from the thought of screwing up. Of hurting my conduit. But last night, Arlon showed that even if I’m casting, I have permission to stop. It’s… a relief to know I have that same out. 

“Thank you,” I murmur. “For… all of this.”

Arlon smile at me and leans forward to press a kiss to my forehead. “Today and tomorrow are the last days you’ll have the cage. Day seven, I’ve made sure to take off to give you my undivided attention.”

I shiver at the implication. “Yes, sir.”

#

Arlon allows me clothes, and we grab breakfast before we head to his office. The stack of letters I brought are still on his desk, but he picks out the letter from Cairish and holds it out to me. “I think Olbric will want to see this,” he says. “Will you take it to him?”

My heart does a little somersault in my chest. I can’t stop a smile. “Yes, sir.” 

I go to grab the letter, but Arlon pulls it away. “You’re allowed to speak, but no casting. You still belong to me, for now,” he says before he hands the letter over. “But be sure to tell Olbric that he’s allowed to keep you warm for me. Be back before lunch.”

I shiver as I take the letter, realizing this is part of Arlon’s way of making last night up to me. “Yes, sir.” I try not to hurry out of his office, but this is the longest I’ve gone without talking to Olbric since he was kidnapped by Diran. I make my way up to the evocation tower, hoping I can catch him. He’s not usually an early riser, so there’s a chance he might still be getting up.

I’m just in time though. He’s about to close his door but stops when he sees me. “You’re free!” he crows, and I smile as I throw my arms around him. He catches me and gives me a little spin. His kiss steals my breath away.

“Not quite,” I say and pull my robe down enough so he can see the collar.

“Oh look at that. He’s given you a little color,” Olbric teases and brushes a finger over the bruise Arlon left on my neck last night. “Can only imagine what the rest of you looks like.”

I swat his hand away with a grin. “A few welts and bruises, but nothing too bad,” I say. “It’s been a busy week.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I met the king yesterday,” I say.

“Fucking hell!”

“And I have this for you,” I say and hold out the opened letter for him.

Olbric groans the second he sees it. “Goddamnit, of course you do,” he says with a sigh. His eyes skim the letter, and he makes a sound of disgust. "Blah blah blah, 'corruption of my son's eternal soul, God weeps at the magic you weave, the punishment for kidnapping is death.' He's gotten so dramatic."

"Sounds pretty serious," I say. 

"He sure likes to think so," Olbric mutters. He opens his door again, and I follow him into his room. He tosses the letter onto his desk as I take a seat on the edge of his bed.

"You want to talk about it?" I ask. I've noticed that Olbric doesn't talk about home often, and it seems like there's a pretty good reason for it.

"What's there to talk about?" Olbric asks as he comes to flop onto his bed next to me. "My father has created a narrative that I've been kidnapped and am being used for magic by the Crux instead of admitting to himself that I came here of my own volition."

"I mean… it sounds like there's a lot to talk about there."

Olbric gives a snort of a laugh. "It doesn't matter. I'm _not_ going home, and he certainly wouldn't dare come and try to fetch me," he says. 

"Why not?"

"With the threats he's made against Arlon and the Crux, Straetham would have to intervene," Olbric says. "He'd never get across the moat. For all intents and purposes, I'm a ward of the Kingdom."

I turn to look at him, propping my head up on my hand. "Sounds like he's got a pretty big issue with magic," I say.

Olbric sighs. "That's the thing - so long as no one he knows is casting, he _loves_ it," he says. "The hypocrisy is _astounding."_

"Ah. So he just has a problem with how it's made."

"Precisely," Olbric mutters. "And it's not just him. Most of my countrymen are like this. We follow a very different religion than you all have on this part of the continent and sex is… complicated."

"How so?"

"So, it's forbidden unless you're married and _definitely_ forbidden if you happen to have the same parts," Olbric says. "I think the greatest insult to my father is the thought of me being fucked by a man. Jokes on him though - even outside of casting, it's my preference."

I lean over and kiss him to try and wipe the scowl off of his face. "I'm sorry," I say. "My da had… similar hangups. He spanked my ass red when I was caught in some innocent fondling with the herdsman's boy, though I’m not sure what pissed him off more - the fact that it was with another boy, or that I was daring to touch someone in public. In Airedale, you kept anything intimate quiet, quick and behind closed doors.”

“That sounds incredibly boring.”

“And now you know what losing my virginity was like,” I snort. “I honestly think my hometown would have their hairs collectively curled if they knew what I was up to here. Fortunately, none of them have any clue how magic is made outside of rumor."

Olbric sighs and rolls onto his side to look at me. "Wish my father didn't know," he mutters. "Would make things a lot easier."

“I’m guessing magic doesn’t come from his side of the family?” 

Olbric’s grin is lopsided. “God, no. My ama carries it,” he says. “She was never allowed to study it, but she encouraged me to leave for Straetham. I sure as hell wasn’t going to study it in Cairish.”

“What’s studying magic like there?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I want to know.

Olbric sighs. “Because it’s so taboo, there’s no institute like the Crux. There’s no real source of magiline save for what you can find on the black markets, so prostitution becomes common enough,” he mutters. “On top of that, if you are outed as practicing magic, you guarantee that any title you held is forfeit, you become a disgrace to your family, etcetera, etcetera. I think that’s why my father chooses to believe I was coerced.”

I scoot a little closer and cup his cheek. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. Me and my da had our problems, but I can’t imagine being estranged like this. 

Olbric turns and kisses my palm. “It is what it is,” he says through a sigh. “I’ve been at the Crux for nearly four years, and I don’t have plans to leave any time soon. Let my father rant and rave and send angry letters until he drops.”

He speaks blithely, but I can see real hurt behind his eyes. I lean forward to catch his lips and feel him relax. My fingers tangle in his long hair as I deepen it, holding him a little closer. He’s breathless when I pull away, and when he smiles at me, the hurt has retreated. 

“I know it doesn’t mean much,” I say, “but I’m real glad you’re here.”

Olbric chuckles as he brushes my hair from my face. “Coming from you, that means everything.” Then he lets out a groan and flops onto his back again. “But damn do I wish you weren’t still collared. I’ve missed you.”

I give a small laugh. “About that,” I say. “Arlon said no casting, but he, ah, gave permission for you to keep me warm for him. His words.”

Olbric turns to look at me slow, one dark eyebrow raising. “Oh _has_ he now?” he says, a smirk spreading over his face. “How _very generous_ of him.”

His hand slides up my under my shirt, and I yelp and flinch away. “Why the fuck are your hands ice!”

“Because it’s cold outside, you dolt,” he laughs before he thrusts both of them up under my shirt. I move to roll off the bed with a yelp, but he grabs me. I try my best to flail out of his grip.

Ever since Galiva fixed my arm, we’re close to matched in strength, but he’s got the advantage of leverage as he wrestles my arms over my head. I pant as I grin up at him. At least with both of his hands holding me down, he can’t put his ice cubes on me.

“You do look rather dashing in a collar,” Olbric says as he straddles my waist. “Maybe someday you’ll let me put one on you.”

I chuckle and tilt my head up so he can get a good look at it. “I don’t know, Arlon may have ruined me to being collared by anyone else,” I tease. 

“That sounds like a challenge,” Olbric growls.

I bite back a groan at the heat in his voice. My hips roll to grind against him even as my cock throbs in the tight confines of the cage. “Of what - who can debauch me the most? I promise you, Arlon’s winning.”

It’s enough to goad him on, and he catches my lips in a bruising kiss. His hips grind against me before he shifts, moving his legs between mine and spreading mine open with his knees. Even fully clothed, it sends a jolt of anticipation to my groin. “Just wait until I get my chance,” he purrs. “God, how I’d love to walk you around on a leash in front of the Crux. But I wouldn’t keep you in a cage - I’m not _that_ cruel. I’d let everyone in the towers see how hot you get when you’re stripped naked in front of them.”

I shudder, heat flooding me, but Olbric is nowhere near done. He nips down my neck, focusing on the skin just around the collar. “Because nothing gets you heated more than being used, isn’t that right, Dom? I could mount you in a pillory in the yard, a ring in your mouth so anyone could fuck it, let your cock hang down for anyone to play with. Everything that Arlon’s denied you this week, I’d let you have. You’ll cum until you’re dry, but your hole? That would only be for me.”

“Fucking hell, Olbric,” I gasp. “Remind me - why aren’t you trying for enchantment?”

“After I check off transmutation, who’s to say I’m not?” he purrs. “But do you want to know why I chose transmutation first?”

I shudder and arch under him, my face flushed. “Why’s that?”

Olbric’s grin is downright obscene. He leans in and nips at my ear lobe before he whispers, “Because with transmutation, I can use you like the fucktoy you’ve always wanted to be. I can use you for decoration, use you as furniture, use you whatever way I like.”

I barely bite back a moan. “You’re filthy.”

“And you love it, don’t you?” he says before he nips at my neck. 

I shudder, and suddenly the next few days can’t pass fast enough. “Yes, sir,” I gasp before realizing what I’ve said. I blink and look up at Olbric to see him grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, now _that’s_ something I could get used to,” he says, and I flush hot red. “He’s put you in it deep this week, hasn’t he?”

My face somehow gets even hotter as I nod. “I’ve been a key turn away from cuming for the past five days. It doesn’t take much to get me there,” I admit. 

For a second, I see something like a scowl on his face, but it’s gone so fast I think I must have imagined it. Olbric adjusts his grip, grabbing both of my wrists with one of his hands. He reaches down to toy with the cage through my trousers. “Interesting that the cage makes you even more submissive. I haven’t considered conjuration because I can’t go more than a couple of days in a cage before I get downright testy.”

“You would, you addict,” I tease and am rewarded with Olbric tickling me until I shriek. “No! I take it back! Have mercy!”

Olbric chuckles and catches my lips again before he finally releases my hands. That doesn’t mean he’s finished with me, though. He half strips me before mapping out my welts with his tongue. A finger through the ring of my collar keeps me compliant, though I’m not too eager to get away. He leaves me panting, my cock leaking even though he’s not so much as grazed my cage.

Eventually, I find myself kneeling on the floor in front of him as he sits on the edge of his bed. His hair’s come loose and he blows a strand out of his face as he grins down at me. He seems to consider something before he releases his cock from the slit in his trousers and hooks a finger through my collar. 

“Arlon said I should keep you warm,” he says. “So let’s see how well he’s trained your mouth this week.”

Olbric pulls me forward, and I wrap my lips around his cock. I’m a little surprised how easy I can take him. He’s sizable, but he’s got nothing on Arlon. I draw him in deep, tongue working down his length as I suck and bob obediently. Arlon’s gotten me used to not using my hands, so I inch myself down until he’s fully seated. My throat quivers around him, just shy of gagging, but I stave it off.

Olbric’s grip on my hair tightens, and I hear his pleasured groan. “Goddamn, Dom,” he mutters. “You’ve always been good, but fuck.”

I grin around his length before retreating only to swallow him again. Olbric moans, but doesn’t force me, letting me set the pace. I take my time to tease him, rolling my tongue around the tip before swallowing him to the root, letting my throat do the rest.

It’s his undoing. Olbric grips my hair, and I feel his cock swell before he cums. I shudder and swallow what he gives me, realizing I like the taste of him better than I like Arlon. I decide to keep that fact to myself as I suck him clean before pulling away.

Olbric runs a hand through his loose hair as he grins at me. “Fucking hell, what day are you getting the collar off?”

I chuckle and glide up between his legs to kiss him hard, letting him get a taste of himself. Olbric gasps as he returns the kiss before I feel him shudder. When I pull away, he’s got a little bit of haze behind his eyes, and I feel a thrill of satisfaction. I thought that might get him. It sure as hell got me when Arlon did it.

“You’re definitely learning,” Olbric says with a small laugh and wipes the flush from his own face.

“We’ll see,” I say. “I’ve definitely learned a lot about conduiting. We’ll see how well I can translate it to casting.”

Olbric grins and flops back on his bed. “I literally can’t wait to find out."


	8. Final Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai earns his freedom from chastity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday y'all! Thank you so much for all your kind comments on this story! I'm glad you guys are so stoked about Olbric. He's definitely a favorite of mine as well, and I promise we get some quality time with him soon. This chapter is a DOOZY. Spicy, but in a good way. I hope you all enjoy!

Arlon gives me another candy before he fucks my mouth that night. He allows me to sleep in his bed again before he does the same the next morning. The last day of my chastity is spent naked under his desk, where he occasionally grabs my head and has me suck him as he works, though he never allows me to finish him off. Each time I take him in, the easier it gets, but it's not until the eve of my last day that he tells me the final catch of earning my freedom.

He waits until we're back in his room and I’m kneeling on the rug before he pulls the little silver key out of his pocket. I freeze, eyes going wide at the sight of it. 

"Tomorrow, you'll get your cage off," Arlon says with a grin. "But how soon it comes off is up to you." I swallow and wait for him to continue, anticipation making my nerves sing. "I told you that by the end of the week, you'd be able to take my full length, and tomorrow is your chance to prove it. As soon as you can satisfy me with your mouth without gagging, I'll take the cage off. Acceptable?"

I shiver as I look up at him. "Yes, sir." I lower my head in a bow, but it's not until my forehead touches the ground that he finally allows me to ask my question. "What happens if I can't do it?"

Arlon hums thoughtfully. His hand cups my chin and makes me meet his eye. "Do you think you'll fail?" he asks.

I swallow, wanting to look away, but Arlon holds my gaze. "I-I don't know."

"That isn't an answer, Dominai."

I take a breath, knowing this is a test. It's not the first time this week he's called me out on confidence. I try to muster every bit of it I feel before I answer. "I can do it."

Arlon smiles. "Good. Then we'll test that tomorrow morning. Come to bed."

I'm a little surprised. I had expected him to do something tonight, but apparently he's saving both of us for tomorrow. I crawl into bed and watch him strip before he goes to his closet and grabs something. He comes back with two small leather bags and cuffs and in the same style as my collar. He takes my hands and poses them in a loose fist before pulling a bag over each one. He fastens the cuff around my wrist, closing it over the end of the bag. He does the same to my other hand, and I realize that even if I wanted to, I couldn't undo the cuffs with my fingers trapped inside of the bags. Then, Arlon takes the cuffs and uses a clever little latch to attach the rings of my cuffs to the rings on my collar. 

But he isn't finished. He puts cuffs around my ankles as well before latching them together. A bit gag is fastened into my mouth next before he pulls a leather blindfold over my eyes, taking away my senses one by one. "You'll notice that I've taken away your ability to stop," Arlon murmurs in my ear. "But that's alright because we're only going to bed."

I whimper around the gag, realizing he means for me to sleep like this. Every nerve is on fire with anticipation for something that isn't going to happen. It's going to be some time before I cool down. Arlon seems to sense that and doesn't do a damn thing to help as his rough hands trail over my body. He toys with me gently, enjoying my helplessness. 

But eventually, even he gets tired. He dozes off, leaving me with my senses blocked and my nerves singing. Even so, his arm stays firmly planted around my waist. I float, helpless and warm and safe, before I finally drift off as well.

#

I wake to the sound of someone stirring. Only darkness meets me when I open my eyes, and I whimper around my gag. I try to move but can't pull my hands from where they're tethered by my neck. 

"Hush," Arlon says, and I feel his hand brush my hair away from my face. I relax immediately, trembling at his touch. "Time to get up."

Arlon frees my ankles before he helps me to my feet. I shiver in his cold room before something clicks onto my collar. There's a jangle of a chain, and I realize that Arlon's finally put a leash on me. He gives a gentle tug, and I follow blindly. 

My feet step onto the cold tile of what must be his bathroom. I hear the roar of water as a bath is drawn but then Arlon grabs my cock. “Piss now or never,” he says. I whimper around the gag, humiliation making me burn hot. It takes me a second to muster myself to do it, and I bury my face against his shoulder as if I can hide from the embarrassment. It’s humiliating not being allowed to do such mundane necessities myself.

Arlon doesn’t seem to care. The water stops, but Arlon doesn’t guide me into the bath. Instead, he takes a washcloth and bathes me gently. I tremble under his touch, feeling like some kind of toy that he’s gotten dirty. He towels me off and brushes my hair before he picks up the leash and gives it a tug. I follow.

"Stairs," he warns, and I step cautiously down them. I've traced this path so many times this week that I realize we're headed to his office. I hear the scrape of his door before he leads me inside and pushes me to my knees on his rug. "Wait here. I'll be right back," he promises.

I whimper, but I hear the door open and close again. I shiver and try to decide if I'm still asleep. But the longer I kneel, the more my knees ache, so I must be awake. Coming to blindfolded, bound and half in conspace is proving to be a bigger mindfuck than I could have imagined. And I get the feeling that's exactly what Arlon intended.

The door opens again, and I whimper, a jolt of fear rushing through me. "It's me," Arlon says, and I jump when his hand touches my face. The gag is pulled from my mouth, and I lick my dry lips. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, sir.” My voice comes out rough, and I nuzzle gratefully into his hand. I don’t like to be left alone like this, even if it was brief. I realize what had drawn him away a second later when Arlon tilts something to my lips.

“Drink,” he orders gently. I do as told, tasting fresh water, flavored with mint. I drain the glass and hear Arlon set it on his desk. “Eat.” I flush but open my mouth and crunch into a slice of apple, drizzled with honey. Arlon is patient, and I hear him enjoying his own breakfast even as he feeds me mine.

When I’m fed, he brushes my teeth for me before giving me a mint leaf to chew on. Once he’s through, he helps me to my feet. He leads me across the room, and I can tell from the cool rush of air that we’ve reached the stair to the dungeon. “Stairs again,” he says. “Walk carefully.”

I follow him down, anticipation building as we reach flat ground again. The last stair catches me by surprise. I stumble a little, but Arlon steadies me. His hands are gentle as they stroke over my sides.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, a hint of mischief in his voice. 

“Yes, sir,” I say, and am a little surprised by it. Once I finally managed to fall asleep, I slept like a rock. Hard enough that Arlon even woke before me. 

Arlon chuckles. "Good. Because we're both in for a long day,” he says. “Kneel."

I shiver at the promise of that and do as I'm told, knees landing on a pillow. Arlon's hand strokes through my hair before he asks, "Are you ready for your freedom?"

I barely stop a whimper as my cock throbs. "Yes sir."

I feel the blunt head of his cock brush my lips. "Then prove it."

I take a deep breath, steadying myself before I draw him in. I start slow, easing down the first couple of inches until I feel him respond. His length swells, and I bob a little further, feeling my throat quiver. I pull back and draw in another deep breath before I ease down again, tongue lapping the underside of his length. I’m rewarded with Arlon’s moan and can almost feel his hand twitching to grab my head, but he resists. He lets me set the pace, and I’m grateful for it. 

I manage to slide my way down his cock, my nose bumping his navel. It’s the first time I’ve done it without him holding me or my throat numbed, and I realize that not having my eyes helps. I only have feel to go off, and though he feels big, I’ve gotten used to him over the week. I stay there until my throat starts to protest before I pull back out to the tip with a sigh. Arlon shudders in appreciation, his hand coming to rest lightly on my head, though he doesn’t force me to anything. 

I ease down his cock again, and my throat opens to let him in easier this time. I slide down his length, taking my time, the Arlon’s groan of pleasure floods me with warmth. I’m not sure how long I’m at it. It doesn’t matter. I could listen to the little sounds I wring out of him forever. Each one sends a little jolt of pleasure straight to my gut.

Then, I feel Arlon’s grip in my hair tighten. He can’t seem to help himself as he thrusts into my willing mouth, a low moan escaping him. I don’t protest, my throat allowing him to push deep. “Dominai,” he groans, and I wish I had the blindfold off. I want to _see_ what I’m doing to him, but I have to be satisfied hearing the pleasure layering his voice. My name is the only warning I get before he seats himself deep, his cock emptying down my throat. I clench my eyes shut under the blindfold, staving off a gag as I swallow. 

I gasp as I pull my mouth off of him, panting for breath. Arlon’s hand is gentle as he cups my cheek, and I lean into the touch. “Are you alright?” Arlon asks.

I give a small laugh. “Yes, sir,” I say. “I did it.”

His chuckle washes over me, his thumb brushing my lip. “That you did,” he says. “I never had any doubt.” He shifts, and then he’s kneeling in front of me, his hands cupping my face. “Would you like your cage off, Dominai?”

I shiver. “Yes, sir. Please.”

Arlon smiles and kisses my nose before I hear the quiet tinkle of the key. My heart thuds in my chest as he grabs my trapped cock. There’s a soft click, and he eases the cage off. I groan in relief and rest my head against his shoulder as he toys with my sensitive length. I thrust up into his hand, my body shaking with need. 

“It’s such a shame,” Arlon says in mock surprise. “Your cock is finally free, but your hands aren’t.”

I whimper as he lets go of me. The blindfold is loosened from over my eyes. I blink, my eyes adjusting easily in the dim light of the dungeon. I look up to see Arlon smiling down at me. “I guess you better find something else to satisfy yourself with.”

I gape at him even as heat rushes to my face. He can’t seriously be suggesting… but no, of course he is. That smile is pure mischief. Arlon unlocks the leash from my collar as I get to my feet, red to the tips of my ears. 

I look around the room before my eyes land on the big bed in the corner. I eye him uncertainly, but he just watches me with a smile. I flush and crawl onto the bed, using my elbows to grab one of the pillows. Well, this will be something I haven’t done since I was first discovering what my cock did. Behind me, Arlon chuckles with genuine mirth, and I bite back a snappy response. I still have a few welts, and gods know I’ll earn more if I sass him.

I try to ignore him as I grind into the pillow. My cock is so sensitive after a week without being touched that it’s enough to get me hard. Humiliation rolls through me as I thrust against it, the friction just enough to feel good. Yet after six months of experiencing the best of what sex can be, this isn’t enough to do it. I groan in frustration, burying my face against the covers.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Arlon chuckles. I flop against the bed with a groan, my cock throbbing. I lift my head and glance over to see what he’s been up to while I was at my futile task. He grins when he catches my eye before saying, “I think this will help you out a little.”

He’s set up a phallus that’s been slid into a stand built right into the ground. It’s a strange shape, big with a more pronounced curve. I shiver when I see that one side is decorated with a row of bumpy ridges. I manage to wiggle off the bed and walk over to him as Arlon slathers the length of it with lotion. He grins and motions to it. “Take a seat.”

I bite my lip as I look at the thing. It’s a stretch - even by Arlon’s standards. Without the use of my hands, it’ll be a challenge. Arlon puts a couple of pillows down before I kneel, straddling the thick phallus. I lower myself until I feel the blunt head poke at me. I sink a little further and shudder as the well-slicked tip slides into me. Arlon seems to be in no hurry, so I take my time to adjust to the intrusion. I sink a little further and feel every bump as they slide past the tight ring of flesh. I moan at the stretch, feeling those bumps drag across that spot inside of me.

“How does it feel, Dominai?” Arlon asks.

Gooseflesh prickles over my skin. “Big, sir.”

“But nothing you can’t handle, is it?”

I shudder as I pull up only to sink down further. “No, sir.”

“Good,” Arlon purrs. “Keep going.”

I moan and do as told, lifting myself up just to sink down again, splitting myself open. As I do, Arlon steps forward and unlocks my muffed hands from my collar. I groan and stretch my arms out. Arlon pulls the leather bags out from under the cuffs, freeing my hands fully.

“I didn’t give you permission to stop,” he says, a hint of warning in his voice. I shudder and start moving again, but Arlon says, “Now that you have your hands back, you have the leverage to go faster.”

I moan and brace my hands on the ground in front of me. I speed up, fucking myself proper on the slicked phallus. It sends chills of pleasure down my back, and the way the thing is shaped rubs against that spot inside of me relentlessly. The quicker I go, the better it feels, and a familiar pressure starts to build at the base of my cock.

“Pause.”

He catches me when the phallus is seated fully in me, but I stop all the same. I groan wantonly, my legs shaking. A hand tilts my chin, and I look up at Arlon through a haze of pleasure. He grins as his free hand slips five focuses down my cock. They spark sharply, wringing a surprised shout out of me. Arlon smiles as he leans close. “This is where I ruin you, Dominai.”

I shudder at the heat in his voice, realizing what he means. This is when I orgasm both inside and out. I reach for my cock, but stop, my hand shaking. “Please, sir,” I beg, every nerve alight with desire.

Arlon smiles as he trails his thumb over my lips. I suck his finger into my mouth, and his smile widens. “Gods you were an easy one to train,” he says. I can’t stop a little noise of displeasure as he pulls away. He goes to sit on a nearby chair, resting his ankle on his knee. “Think of this week and how it made you feel. Let’s see what you conjure this time.”

I don’t waste a second as I grip my cock and start to ride the phallus as quick as my legs will let me. I fall onto it over and over as I stroke my already dripping cock. The focuses spark again, and my whole body jerks in response. All the while, Arlon watches me.

Fragmented thoughts flit through my head, memories of him fucking me, my throat, my ass, of him bringing me the deepest I’ve ever been, and him bringing me back out. I remember being humiliated, beaten, mad with desire, yet at the same time, satisfied. Content and safe enough to fall asleep blind and bound in his arms.

“Remove your hand, Dominai,” Arlon orders.

I wail and slap my hand against the ground even as I continue to sink onto the phallus. The pressure in my cock and the base of my balls starts to build again. I speed up, even as I hear Arlon tsk.

“Pause,” he says, and I whimper as the phallus sinks deep again. I’m trembling from head to toe, panting like I’ve just run a race. My nerves sing with need, but no louder than the command of his voice.

“Sir, please, _please.”_

Arlon waits a weighted second, and I glance up to see that sadistic grin spread across his face, his hands steepled in front of him as he watches me. He leans back a little more comfortably in his chair. “Continue.”

With a tormented groan, I start again. My cock feels hard as stone in my grip, and I’m so sensitive that it doesn’t take me long to get back to that same level. I pant and bite back my moan, trying to keep my pace steady so maybe he won’t notice as I edge closer to the point of no return. 

“Pause,” Arlon orders again, and I wail miserably. Arlon chuckles. “Don’t think you can trick me, Dominai. I’ve also been paying attention this week.”

Sweat drips off the tip of my nose as I sink helplessly back onto the phallus. He’s right. No one else knows me like he does. No one else can control me with a word. Force me to edge myself until there’s no room left in my head but the need to finish.

“Sir, please!” I beg, my voice shaking with need.

Arlon hums thoughtfully as if deciding if I’ve earned it or not. When he’s in this mood, he could keep me at it all day, but I don’t think I can stand it much longer. I’m shaking from head to toe, body tight as a bowstring as I wait for his decision.

He takes forever to make up his mind. Then, finally, “Continue.”

I don’t recognize the animalistic sound of relief that escapes me as I start again. I tug my cock as I split myself open on the phallus over and over. It takes even less time to get me back up to the precipice. 

This time, Arlon lets me have it. “Cum, Dominai.”

I feel it internally first, just as one of those bumps rubs over that spot inside of me in just the right way. But between the pleasure that races through me and what my hand’s doing over my slick length, my cock catches up quick.

I cum with a howl, doubling over with pleasure. After a week of deprivation, I’m staggered by it. I try to keep my hips moving, keep thrusting down, but I lock up and sink deep onto the phallus as the ecstasy threatens to undo me. My vision goes fuzzy. Every muscle in my body tightens as my cock empties, first a stream and then a trickle. 

My balls run dry by the time it subsides, though fizzles of pleasure skitter through me, making me twitch with the aftershocks. I lay curled, my head resting against my arm, the phallus still deep in me. I don’t think I have the strength to pull off it. 

“Are you alright?” 

I can’t even lift my head. When I find my voice, it comes out rough. “Good gods.”

Arlon chuckles, and then he’s helping me up. He half lifts me off of the phallus, and I can’t stop an exhausted little moan, my cock giving one last feeble dribble as the ridges rub across that spot inside of me again. I’m half carried over to the bed, though at least this time, I get to use the pillow for its intended purpose.

Arlon pulls a blanket up to cover me, and I must doze, because the next thing I know, I’m blinking awake. I’m still in the bed, but I feel Arlon’s fingers in my hair, his comfortable weight behind me. I let out a contented sigh, and my eyes drift closed again. 

“You looked like you needed a break after that,” Arlon says gently. 

I can’t stop a small laugh. “You’d be right, sir,” I say and groan as I roll onto my back. “Thank you.” I can’t have been out long, because fizzles of pleasure race through me as I move, the soft blanket brushing my sore ass and cock.

“Don’t think I’m finished with you,” Arlon warns.

I shiver as I look up at him. “No, sir.”

He shifts to lay a little more comfortably next to me, head propped up on one elbow. Through everything, he still has his clothes on. "You may speak freely. How are you feeling?"

I put a hand to my head. "Fucking hell,” I say through a small laugh. “That was something else.”

Arlon grins, but I can see the pride on his face. "I was half convinced that when I came between you and finishing, you'd lose that compliance," he says. "But you didn't. You obeyed every last order I gave."

I flush, even as an unsettling thought crosses my mind. "I don't know if I can say no to you anymore," I admit. "So… what happens when I have the collar off?"

Arlon looks at me curiously. "What do you mean?"

I frown and roll on my side to face him, though I can’t quite meet his eyes. "When you were rallying folks to go to the Hobokins, you weren't going to take me. But I fought you on it. I… don't know if I could do that anymore." I give a lopsided grin. “You may have beaten the rebellion out of me.”

Arlon's rough palm cups my cheek. "Dom, I didn't suggest collaring to break you," he says. “Some I’ll collar to knock their ego down a notch or two, but I am the _last_ person to want to quash the rebellion in anyone. You came on that trip because you were _confident_ you could help. And you were right."

When I try to look away, his hand pulls me back, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes are the color of fresh tilled earth, and they’re focused on me fondly. "When that collar comes off, when we drop this power dynamic, my only wish is to see that confidence grow," he says even as his smile fades a little. 

“Being grandmaster of the Crux often means making decisions I'd rather not make, or choosing paths I'd rather not choose. Frankly, sometimes it’s downright terrifying,” he says through a sigh. “But having the insight of those I trust helps, and Dom, I _trust_ you. I never would have collared you if I didn’t. You are talented and _capable_ and far smarter than you think. Trust your judgment. And when it is at odds with mine, I trust that you will speak up.”

I swallow and lean into his hand. This is _Arlon_ saying this, and he’s one of the few people who can speak louder than the doubts in my head. “I will,” I promise. “Thank you.”

Arlon presses his forehead against mine. I sigh and lean against him, feeling the warmth of his breath mingle with my own. “I think it’s safe to say that this has been an emotional week for both of us,” he murmurs.

I can’t stop a small laugh. “I think that’s a pretty correct assessment,” I say. “I’m going to miss your bed.”

Arlon chuckles. “I don’t normally allow those I collar to sleep in it,” he admits. “But I’ve made you one of the few exceptions to that.” He drums his fingers against the back of my neck before he releases it and pulls away to look at me. “I’ll remove your collar tonight,” he declares. “But if you so choose to stay after that, my bed is open to you. We can talk on equal footing again.”

I flush with pleasure. “I’d like that.” 

Arlon smiles. “Good. I haven’t collared anyone like you in some time, and I have a feeling that freeing you will be an adjustment for both of us,” he says. “I’ll miss having you under my desk.”

I chuckle and say, “Strange to say I’ll miss it too.” It takes me a second, but I meet his eyes, and a second longer to muster the question. “Can we… do this again sometime? It was… nice to give up control like this.” That’s not a big enough word to describe what this week was. “Fulfilling.”

Arlon beams at me. It’s such a rare sight. It makes my chest swell to see it. “It was just as fulfilling to be given that control,” he says. “I would like that very much.“ He thinks for a moment before saying, “What about a standing day every week? Would that be too often?”

My stomach does a funny little somersault. “No, that sounds perfect.”

“Mondays, then?”

It’s a slow day for casting usually, which makes it perfect. And with today being Friday, it means I’ll only have to go a couple of days without seeing him. It’ll be a nice way to ease back into freedom. “I’ll be here,” I promise.

“Good,” Arlon says. He reaches up and toys with the little ring on my collar. “Once this is off, I’ll give it to you. Unless we discuss a cancellation beforehand, on Mondays, you’ll be to my office by eight with your collar on, and you’ll stay until you wake up the next morning. Agreeable?”

I can’t stop a shiver of anticipation. “Thank you.”

“I can’t promise I’ll always have the time to cast with you,” Arlon warns. “But I will always be grateful for your presence and will do my best to make it worth your time.”

I give a small laugh. “You won’t need to worry about that,” I say. “This week has been interesting in more ways than just casting.”

“I’m glad,” Arlon says. “You’ve proven yourself a rather invaluable aide. I’d be glad for your help.”

My smile is wide, and I can’t seem to wipe it away. Instead, I lean in and press my lips to his. A quick, grateful kiss. Arlon catches me before I can pull away and holds me close before deepening it. I can’t stop a gasp as he steals my breath, makes my head swim. When he finally releases me, that look is back on his face as his finger loops through the ring on my collar.

“Are you ready to continue, Dominai?”

I swallow, my heartbeat spiking. I’m not sure how long we’ve rested, but I feel myself stirring already. After a week of deprivation, one spell isn’t enough to wear me out. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon smiles. “Good.”

After Arlon feeds me a quick lunch, he takes me deep. Abjuration finds me suspended in ropes similar to what I did with Galiva. Then he adds illusion on top of it, covering my eyes with a blindfold and blocking my ears with wax before securing a ring gag into my mouth again. It’s almost like being in the silver, though the bite of the ropes hold in a very different way. Focuses are slid down my fingers, though he leaves my thumbs unencumbered in case I need to stop.

I’m spun around and feel Arlon do something to the ropes that forces my legs open wider. It wrings a surprised gasp from me, but he doesn’t give me time to recover before he’s entering me. The ropes allow him to fuck me deep as he pulls me onto his cock.

I shout with each hard thrust, relishing the abandon of submitting. My head hangs low, spit dripping from my forced-open mouth. Arlon grabs my hard length, I arch with a wail. I’m so used to the immovable hold of the silver that I savor the chance to writhe and shout. I want him to hear my appreciation as I beg and moan around the gag.

Maybe it’s because I primed myself this morning, but as he fucks me, I feel another internal orgasm building. Arlon expertly strokes my cock, and I realize he’s trying to ruin me all over again. 

I almost dread having another. The first nearly undid me. 

But Arlon doesn’t seem to care. After a week of keeping me locked up, he seems intent to give me everything that I’ve missed and more. His cock thrusts deep, and with the angle he’s tied me, it hits that sweet spot relentlessly. His hand is slick with lotion and the way he strokes me almost makes me feel like I’m inside someone. I plead around my gag, begging him not to stop. 

It feels so good it almost hurts, and I scream my gratitude when he allows me to cum. He doesn’t so much as pause his thrusts as his hand milks my cock for every last drop. Soon I'm screaming for a different reason as the prolonged pleasure becomes a torment of its own. I beg and plead around my gag but Arlon doesn’t stop until he wrings one last drop out of my spent cock.

When he pulls out, I whimper and let my head drop. The focuses are lifted from my fingers, the blindfold pulled from my eyes, the plugs from my ears. The gag, however, he keeps in.

My head hangs low as I pant for breath, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Arlon cleaning his cock in the small wash basin. Below me, I see the puddles of spit and cum I’ve left on the floor and realize that he’s not through with me yet. He didn’t finish.

“Are you alright?”

Another whimper spills a fresh string of saliva from my mouth to the ground. I hadn’t even realized Arlon had come back over. I manage a weak nod, but Arlon’s hand catches me under the chin and lifts my head. He tilts me this way and that, examining me closely before he nods in approval. He lets my head fall again before he says, “I think I’ll switch to evocation.”

My hands clench under the ropes, another tormented moan spilling from me. I'm sore and used, muscles aching from being tied for so long, but I'm his to enjoy, and it's not my place to deny him what he wants. But Arlon can read me like a book, and he says, “I’m going to wring two more spells out of you.”

I’m almost disappointed, but I’m so deep in it that I’ll trust Arlon’s judgment over my own. He goes to the wall and grabs something I can’t see. He puts a fresh set of focuses over my fingers. Impossibly, my cock stirs again, and Arlon chuckles. 

“A week of deprivation has done well for your stamina,” he says. He adjusts the ropes, tying an extra sling for my head and neck. Normally, I'd be afraid of someone tying ropes around my neck when suspended, but Arlon is sure and confident. The ropes link through the ring of my collar, while a few others loop around my neck. He ties the rope cleverly, so when I try to let my head hang, it chokes me a little, but the ropes through my collar ring stops it from choking me too much. It forces me to keep my head up, which he uses to his advantage.

His hand fists in my hair before he thrusts into my forced open mouth. I taste a hint of soap on his length as he puts all that training I did through the week to good use. The ropes give him leverage to fuck my throat until I gag, but even then he only pulls back a little.

Something snaps against my ass in a stinging slap, and I shout around his cock. Without the ring forcing my teeth apart, I might have bit him in my surprise. The thing snaps down on my ass again even as Arlon thrusts deep to muffle my shout.

Whatever it is he's using _hurts,_ like a crop but bigger, more solid. He rains down the blows, one after another, and I realize that he must have some sort of paddle. Tears sting my cheeks as he pulls out, giving me a brief moment to catch my breath before he thrusts back in. I'm not sure how long I hang there having my throat fucked and my ass beat. Arlon doesn't relent until my skin radiates heat that I'll feel long after my collar is off.

When he finally pulls out of my mouth, I can't stop a little sob. I feel light-headed in the aftermath of it, my backside one big welt. I just want to let my head hang, but the ropes stop me from doing even that. He snatches the focuses off my fingers before sliding on six more.

Then Arlon comes behind me, his cool hands grabbing the reddened mounds of my ass. I cry out weakly before he reaches up and unclasps the gag from my mouth. It falls to the ground, and I moan as I'm allowed to stretch my jaw. "Sir, please," I whimper, though I'm not sure what I'm begging for.

Arlon hand grips my hair and pulls my head back, making me shout. I feel his weight between my spread legs, his erect cock poking at me, though he doesn't push into me again. "What is it you want, Dominai?"

I shudder, and the heat in his voice sends a thrill through me. "I want to make you cum, sir."

"And how would you do that?" he asks, the perfect control in his voice completely at odds with the quaver of desperation in mine.

"I-I don't know, sir," I gasp. "My mouth, my ass - whatever you want."

"That's exactly right," Arlon says approvingly as his hand tightens in my hair. "Whatever I want. Because you're _my_ fuckboy, aren't you?" I whimper and nod as best as I can, but that's not a good enough answer. "Say it, Dominai."

I feel the tip of his slicked cock prod at me and arch with a gasp. "I'm your fuckboy, sir."

"And what’s a fuckboy good for?" he hisses as the tip of him slips into my sore hole. 

I jerk, nerves alright with a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Whatever you want, sir,” I whimper.

“Damn straight.” 

Arlon seats himself with one hard thrust that makes me choke on my own breath. If there’s one thing I’ve learned this week, it’s that Arlon likes it rough. With his size, it can’t be something he’s able to do often, but he’s trained me to take him in every way, and I don’t disappoint now. 

Arlon uses the ropes for leverage as he fucks me hard, pulling me onto him even as he thrusts to meet me. Every snap of his hips sends sparks of sensation across my reddened skin, pleasure edged with pain shooting through me as he drags over that spot inside of me. Impossibly, I feel another orgasm building. I don’t know what else I can give, but Arlon is intent to take it.

His hand grabs my cock again, and I can’t stop a broken sob. My length swells again under his touch, and I’m almost mad at it. I don’t know if I can handle another. The last one felt like a miracle, but this one is starting to feel like torture.

Arlon had warned me though. This is the last spell. He strokes in time with every thrust before he slaps a hand against my red ass. I yelp even as it sends a flash a desire through me. “Gods, the way you tense up,” he groans and slaps me again. The pleasure that thickens his voice feeds my own need, and I feel the pressure building again.

“I’m going to cum, sir,” I moan. 

“Not yet you aren’t,” Arlon growls, even as he speeds up his pace.

I wail, eyes clenched shut tight as I try to stave it off. But this may be an order I can’t obey. “Sir, please, _please.”_

“Not yet,” Arlon pants and squeezes the base of my cock hard. He groans, and I’m so sore and so raw that his cock feels huge as it swells inside of me. His breath hisses out of his nose, and he gives me a few more brutal thrusts as his hand starts to stroke me again. “Now you may cum.”

It’s like my body was waiting for permission. I scream as I orgasm again, though my cock only gives a dribble of clear liquid. Arlon thrusts once more before he seats himself deep, moaning as he fills me. My whole body shudders in the ropes, my orgasm wiping every thought from my head. I don’t know how long it goes on for, but by the time it subsides, I feel empty, my vision fuzzy at the edges. For a second, I just float there, not even feeling the ropes that shorten my breath and dig into my skin.

It’s bliss.

I don’t really register Arlon lowering me down, don’t really hear the words of praise and comfort he murmurs to me even though they make my chest swell with pride all the same. The ropes are loosened, and I feel his warm hands gently rub at the marks they left on my skin. Then, he scoops me up with a grunt. I drape my arms around his shoulders, and bury my face against his neck. 

I feel warm steam banish the chill of the Crux, and I blink as the baths swim into focus. Someone asks a question, and Arlon chuckles before replying. I’m glad I don’t have to try and summon words yet. Instead, Arlon helps me into one of the pools, the hot water stinging the new set of welts he’s given me. 

He slides in behind me a moment later and drapes an arm around me to keep me upright. I let out a long sigh and am content to float, safe and warm until my senses come back to me. My eyes are the first thing that starts working right, and I blink up at Arlon. He’s reclined comfortably against the edge of the pool, his eyes closed, though one arm holds me to his chest. I smile before the rest of the baths come into focus and start a bit when I realize we’re not alone. 

In the pool across from us are Olbric and Cancassi, and both of them are watching us. Cancassi looks a little amazed, but if I wasn’t still floating halfway out of my body, I’d say Olbric looks upset. I blink, but when I open my eyes again, both of them are gone, and I wonder if I had imagined them. 

Arlon stirs as I do and lets out a contented little sigh. “Are you alright?” he murmurs.

I smile as I let my head fall back against his chest. “Great. Going to be sitting tender for weeks,” I say before adding a quick, “Sir.”

Arlon chuckles kisses the side of my head before his fingers are at my collar. I expect him to tug the ring and pull me closer, but instead, he unbuckles it and pulls it off, setting it on the edge of the pool. I rub my neck. After so long with it on, it feels like I’m missing something.

Arlon smiles and says, “You’ve earned your freedom.”

He sinks further into the pool, his arm relaxing it’s grip a little now that I’m coherent enough to hold myself up. I still stay pressed against him, enjoying the simple comfort of it. Of all the new things the Crux introduced me to, this is one of my favorites. Just being able to enjoy the closeness of another person without having to say a godsdamn thing. We stay like that for a few long minutes, savoring the quiet.

I look down at my body and see the bruises and marks he’s left on me. Folks in the towers tend to wear them like a badge of pride, and I’ve sure got quite the display of medals to show off after this week. My ass throbs in the hot water, along with a few flogging welts that are particularly stubborn. 

“Gods, I look like I lost a fight with a hail storm,” I mutter.

Arlon chuckles. “I’d apologize for the bruises, but I’m not sorry.”

“I’m not, either,” I say. I let out a long breath and sink up to my neck. “Thank you… for everything this week. It helped.”

Arlon lifts a finger and brushes my wet hair away from my face. “Good,” he says. “I stand by what I said at the beginning of the week. I’m certain it’s a confidence issue.” 

I sigh and nod. He’s pointed it out enough times this week that it’s become obvious. “Don’t get discouraged,” Arlon says. “Confidence is no easy process, and it _is_ a process. But I know you’ll get there. I can build you up, can show you the methods I use to cast, explain a caster headspace until I’m blue in the face, but confidence is something you have to discover on your own.”

I trail my fingers over the water. It shimmers under my fingertips, and I can't help but wonder if the magiline does something to it. "How did you find yours?" I ask.

Arlon is quiet as he tries to find an answer. “I don’t think I was given much of a choice,” he says at last. “Though I’m not sure I’d call it confidence so much as… a reckless kind of ego. It’s gotten me in trouble on more than one occasion.”

I lean a little more comfortably against his chest as my fingers trace the calluses on his hands. The question has been nagging at me for months, and I finally gather the courage to ask it. “How did you end up here?”

Arlon chuckles ruefully. “Me predecessor Faunette arrested me.”

I pull away to get a look at his face, trying to decide if he’s being serious. He’s grinning, but he sure seems to be. “You’re joking.”

“I am not,” he says and runs a hand through his hair. “I told you, I’m the last person to try and beat the rebellion out of anyone.” Well, that throws out most of my theories. He sees my look and chuckles. “I’ll tell you the story, but you’re observant - what do you think I did before I came to the Crux?”

“I’d thought you might have been a soldier,” I admit.

Arlon hums thoughtfully. “Not a bad guess,” he says. “I was a brigand.”

I gape at him. _“Seriously?”_

Arlon shrugs. “There’s not much place on a tzigaro caravan for a bastard, so when my mother Kalis died, I was forced out. I was young, poor and traveling alone through the Hobokins, which I don’t think I need to tell you was a stupid thing to do,” he mutters. “A brigand by the name of Vian Wolf and his crew caught up to me on the road. They beat me within an inch of my life, and when they realized I didn’t have any money, Vian took me with them."

I can’t stop a wince. It’s gotten better in recent years, but after a lifetime of traveling on and around the roads in the Hobokins, I learned quick to stay away from the areas the bandit crews case out. I was right about him being tzigaro, and wrong about everything else. “How old were you?” 

“Sixteen,” he says through a sigh. “I was six feet tall already and strong, so Vian saw an opportunity to add to his crew. He was a cunning son of a bitch, and after a few escape attempts and a few more beatings, he figured out how I ticked. He offered me money, freedom and respect - three things I’d never had, and I latched onto the opportunity like a fish on a hook.” 

A shadow passes behind his eyes, and he says, “I was under that man’s thumb for ten years, and was so misguided that I didn’t even realize how far from freedom I was. But then one of our raids went bad. We caught the attention of the Crux, and not long after, Faunette and a few other wizards came to deal with us.”

“Fucking hell, what happened?” I can’t keep the awe from my voice. It’s hard to reconcile the grandmaster I know with his past, but as he talks, more of an accent starts to emerge. It gets a little easier to believe with every word. 

“What you’d expect to happen when a group of trained evokers go up against a bandit gang armed with nothing but stolen weapons and armor. Vian had put me in charge that day, and I still wonder if he knew what was coming. It would have been just like him,” he says with no small amount of bitterness. “The fight was over in less than a minute. They did it without killing a single one of us, though it is how I got this scar.” He points to the big one on his chest that I had traced the last time we were down here. 

“We were clapped in irons and brought down the mountain,” Arlon says. “Faunette patched me up, but she later told me she spotted me as non-bloodline almost immediately. When time came for our sentencing from the constable, she negotiated a deal. While the others were sent to a granite quarry for their sentence, I would work the magiline mine for the Crux. So every day for a full year, I went down those stairs to mine and shape focuses.”

“Gods, that sounds back breaking,” I mutter.

“That was the constable’s hope,” Arlon says. “It’s a miracle I still enjoy doing it, really. The granite quarries are far worse, though - the reason that the sentence was only a year is because most don’t survive it, whether it be from an accident or someone else killing you for your dinner.” He says it with no small amount of bitterness, and I can’t help but wonder what happened to the people who were caught with him.

“But since I was working the magiline mine, I was spared that. Faunette made sure to show me all that magic could do, and no matter how constrained I was, I couldn’t help but see glimpses of how it was made. Yet during that entire year, she didn’t tell me I had magic in my blood. I was going _mad_ wondering why she had gone out of her way to change my sentence."

He has a fond smile on his face, his expression far away. “Then, on the very last night of my indenture, she told me,” he says. “It felt like my entire world had dropped out from under me. For an entire year she could have used me for casting, but she recognized that because I was indentured here, I wasn’t able to give consent - not truly. If she had used me for casting, she would have been no better than Vian, who used me for _years_ while he held the chains I was too blind to see,” he says. “Instead, she waited, and showed me all that magic was capable of before telling me that _I could do it.”_ He gives a small huff of a laugh. “She all but guaranteed that I would join the Crux the moment she intervened on my behalf.”

"Where is she now?" I wonder.

Arlon's smile turns sad, his eyes going glassy. "She found Quietus fifteen years ago," he says. "A cancer that even magic couldn't heal. I never repaid her for all she did for me, but even so, she gave me one last gift by naming me grandmaster of the Crux."

I swallow and slide beside him again. "I'm sorry," I say. I recognize that pain and know there's nothing for it. That hole exists and no words can fill it.

Arlon tightens his grip around my shoulders. "Death is just the last step of life," he says through a sigh. "Maybe Quietus will be kind. Maybe when I've taken my last breath, they'll allow me to see her again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys are curious about Arlon's backstory after reading this, I am definitely in the middle of writing it. Unlike Dom's story, it's looking to be a slow burn romance with a darker tone, so if that sounds interesting, let me know! I'll be sure to give updates on it here and on my Twitter @AletheaFaust


	9. Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai is freed and catches up with Cancassi and Olbric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! A little bit of a breather chapter this week. We're almost to the halfway point! Thanks for your comments and kudos on this story. I hope you guys are liking it. I'm starting to work on part 3 of this series, so if there's things you want to see more/less of, let me know! It's looking to be a bit heavier on plot than Initiation and Mastery have been, but there will still be a healthy mix of smut, story, and character development. Thanks for reading all!

That night, we return to Arlon’s room on equal footing. He tends to my welts and bruises, and I feel downright pampered by his attentions. The cool salve he rubs onto my abused ass wrings a moan out of me as I bury my face into his pillow.

When he’s finally finished, he lays down beside me with a groan. “I’m getting too old for days like today,” he mutters.

I snort at that. “Bullshit.”

“Says the what - thirty year old?” Arlon asks.

I keep my face buried against his pillow. “Twenty two,” I mutter.

Arlon swears, and I glance up to see him run a hand through his hair. “Gods you're even younger than I thought. I was an adult before you were even a twinkle in your father's eye," he mutters.

I scowl at that. "So what?"

Arlon raises an eyebrow and says, "I usually have a rule against casting with anyone who's less than half my age. Guess I've made you an exception there, too." He gives a short laugh and ads, "I can't regret it though. This has been… a hell of a week."

I chuckle and bury my face against his pillow. "You can say that again."

"Take it from your elder," Arlon says. "Enjoy having three orgasms a day while you can. That stamina doesn’t last forever.”

A silence passes, and I roll onto my side with a groan only to see Arlon watching me, a curious expression on his face. “It took a lot of courage to leave your home and come here,” he says after a moment. “I can guarantee that if my caravan hadn’t kicked me out, I never would have left. What was the tipping point for you?”

I let out a quiet sigh. “Breaking my drawing arm sealed it, but it wasn’t easy to stay in Airedale after my da died. Things were just… lonely,” I say. “The cabin had too many memories.”

“Were you close?” he asks.

My grin comes out crooked. “Had to be,” I say. “Our cabin was smaller than this room. But he was a good man. Strict, but never cruel. At least… not on purpose.”

“What do you mean?”

I sigh and flop onto my back as I run my hand through my hair. “He… had a very specific idea of who his son should be,” I say at last. “Any time I deviated from that, he made sure I felt his disappointment. He was pushing me to settle down with this nice girl from town right before he died.” I put my hand over my eyes and mutter, “If he could see what I’m doing now, he’d probably be rolling in his grave.”

Arlon gives a quiet scoff. “Do you regret coming here?”

“What?” I lift my hand from my eyes to stare at him. “No! Of course not.”

“Good.” Arlon cups my cheek. “Not everyone has the freedom to decide their own fate. You made a choice to come here, to study magic that has the potential to change the very world we live in for the better. Carrying the expectations of others, living or not, will only hold you back.”

My smile comes out crooked. “Letting those go is easier said than done.”

Arlon presses a kiss to my forehead. “I know. We’re all products of where we came from,” he says gently. “Unlearning what we’ve been taught to expect from ourselves is no small task, but I can promise you that the work is worth it.”

I draw in a deep breath and let it out. “I know. I’m… trying.”

“That’s all I ask,” Arlon says. “But don’t do it for me or anyone else. Do it for yourself, Dom. You're worth it.”

#

I fall asleep wrapped tight in Arlon’s arms. When I wake the next morning, I carefully extract myself, but Arlon stirs all the same. He sighs and tightens his grip on me before kissing the back of my neck. “I want to see what you've conjured,” he says through a yawn.

I’ve learned this week that he’s not the earliest of risers, and this is far before his normal time. The sun is just barely greying the horizon, but he gets up all the same. I try to hide my grin as he gets dressed, looking more disheveled than I’ve ever seen him. Even so, he follows me down to the conjuration yard, sleep still creasing his face. 

He comes up behind me and strings ten focuses onto my necklace. I feel two castings each of the three spells we made yesterday afternoon, plus two of the evocation and enchantment he got out of me before he stopped us. “I’ll keep two, and two will go into the Crux stores,” he says. “You've netted us quite a number this week.”

He drops one of the focuses I charged with my conjuration into my hand before stringing the remaining four onto my necklace. Sleepily, he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I smile and twirl the focus between my fingers, feeling that it’s a strong one. Don’t see how it couldn’t be after all I went through to make it. I plant my feet, hold the focus out in front of me, and release the spell. 

The air in front of us shimmers, and a crack of light appears like it’s been ripped into the very fabric of the sky. Behind me, Arlon draws in a breath. When I look back, his eyes are wide, all trace of sleepiness gone. A smile spreads over his face as he reaches out to grab the edge of reality and pulls it aside like a curtain. 

“Go inside.” I give him a look, but he chuckles. “It’s safe, I promise.”

I slip my head through the curtain and can’t stop a gasp. It’s a cabin - almost like what me and my da had in the Hobokins. But where ours was small and drafty, this could easily fit twenty people. Inside, it’s a noticeable difference in temperature from the chill morning air. I step fully into the warmth with an amazed laugh.

The air inside is fresh, and I smell a hint of pine. I put a hand against the wood wall, feeling the smooth grain under my fingers. There’s a cookstove in the corner and a stone chimney that runs up wall behind it. There’s even a large bed in one corner and a large wooden bath that steams with hot water. Golden light comes from a source I can’t place. There are no windows, but I can't help but think it's the most comfortable space I've ever been in.

Arlon’s footsteps sound on the floor behind me, and I can’t stop an amazed laugh. “I made this?”

“You did,” he says. “And do you want to know the best part?” He reaches behind him, where I can see the slit of the courtyard through the crack in the door. He grabs the very real knob and closes it before he says, “With the door closed, no one on the outside will be able to find it. You’ve created a truly safe space here.”

I run a hand through my hair, grinning from ear to ear. It takes me a second to notice Arlon watching me, a curious look on his face. “I told you to think about this week when casting it,” he says as he walks over to me. “I didn’t know what to expect from the spell but this…” He cups my face, thumb stroking my cheek. “Dom, I’m honored that you felt safe enough to create something like this.”

I put my hand over his and lean into his touch. “Thanks for making sure I _was_ safe,” I say. “I was glad to have you looking out for me.”

Arlon smiles and his kiss makes warmth rush through me that has nothing to do with my conjuration. “It was my pleasure."

#

The sun hangs just over the horizon by the time we walk out of safety of my spell. I feel strange when we part ways outside of the mess hall, but I hold onto the fact that if I don’t see him sooner, I’ll see Arlon on Monday. Freedom is definitely going to be an adjustment period, but at least I'll get the weekend to rest and recover.

I head into the mess, and this early, Cancassi is the lone figure in the otherwise abandoned hall. They sip from a steaming mug and are so intent on the book in front of them they don’t notice me as I grab my breakfast. It’s only when I take a seat across from them that they look up, copper eyes immediately looking towards my neck.

“You’ve been released,” they say with a smile. “It certainly looked like you had earned it. You were in it deep last night.”

It takes me a second to realize what they’re saying. I try and rub the heat from my face with no luck. “Fuck, that’s right - you and Olbric were in the baths, weren’t you? I thought I had imagined it.”

Cancassi gives a musical little laugh. “Gods, you were out of it, weren’t you? It seemed like you enjoyed yourself.” 

“It’s been a good week,” I say even as I rub my neck, searching for the collar that’s not there. Instead, it’s in my pocket until Monday. “I’m kind of at a loss for what to do now.”

Cancassi’s grin turns sly. “Olbric has certainly been eager for your freedom,” they say. “Or I could always help you find direction. I have had a specific enchantment spell that’s been on my mind lately.”

I chuckle and shake my head. “I think I need a few days to recover first,” I say. My cock doesn’t so much as stir at the idea of casting right now. I feel drained dry. “Give me until the end of the week, then absolutely.”

Cancassi smiles. “It’s a date then,” they say.

Once I’m finished with breakfast and Cancassi’s cup is empty, they ask if I can walk them up to their room. “It’s only on the second floor of the illusion tower, but the stairs have been killing me.”

“I’m sure Arlon could move your room to the first floor,” I say even as I grab their book and offer them a hand up.

Cancassi takes it and stands with a groan, their beautiful face twisted into a grimace. “I think it’s just pride stopping me at this point,” they admit. “I keep thinking it’ll get better, but winter has been hard, and it’s barely even started.”

“I’m sorry,” I say as we walk out of the mess together. They lean heavily against me, their limp noticeably more pronounced. “Have you found anything that helps?”

Cancassi sighs. “The baths do. Olbric’s magiline wrap does some too,” they say. “The tincture that Galiva gave me takes the edge off, but the side effects are a little too much for me.”

“Side effects?”

“It’s hard to function,” they say. “I get tired and dizzy, and all of me feels… leaden. I only use it to sleep.”

We reach the stairs, and Cancassi sighs as they look up at them, visibly daunted. It twists my heart in my chest, and before they can attempt the first step, I pull them into a tight embrace. Cancassi relaxes against me, arms twining behind my back. I pull away just enough so I can catch their lips and am rewarded with a contented little sigh. When we part, I rest my forehead against theirs. 

“I’m real glad you’re still alive, Cass.”

Cancassi gives a small laugh, and I realize that tears had spilled down their cheeks. “Me too.” They let out a shuddering breath. “It’s just adjusting to this new kind of life that’s proving difficult.”

“I know,” I say and kiss their temple. “When I broke my arm, I remember feeling the same way. It’s how I ended up here.”

Cancassi chuckles against my shoulder. “Magic can do incredible things. Maybe we’ll find something to help me, someday,” they say. “But if that doesn’t happen, I’ll adapt. And if I don’t adapt, I’ll have you and everyone else to carry me up and down stairs, right?” 

I smile and scoop them up before catching their lips again. “Always.” 

#

Part of me thought Olbric would be waiting for me on my release, but I was wrong. He's not in his room, and I don't catch him in the mess hall, either. I don't find him until that afternoon when I walk by the illusion tower on my way to the library. He's found a quiet spot in an alcove on the first floor that's tucked into a niche in the wall, so hidden that I nearly pass him by. 

He's intent on the book he's pouring over and doesn't notice me as I approach. He's got a frown on his face, but behind his spectacles, his eyes are still. It looks like his thoughts are anywhere but on the words in front of him. 

"Good read?" I ask.

It's enough to startle him out of his daze. He looks up but his smile feels hollow. "As interesting as magical theory can be, I suppose," he says and rubs his eyes. He looks tired, too, and I frown as I take the seat across from him. 

"What's wrong? You look terrible," I say. 

"Thanks." His tone is as chilly as the draft through the Crux. He snaps his book closed, and I realize he's _angry._

I hold up my hands. "Shit - I'm sorry, I was only ribbing you.” There were times after his run-in with Diran, the memories would ambush him, and I’d see that fear light in his eyes before he’d lash out. They’ve never gone away, but I don’t think that’s what’s happening now. This seems like something else. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

He looks anywhere but at me, and I get the feeling that he’s trying to figure out how to answer. Finally he buries his face in his hands and lets out a deep sigh. "I don't know," he says at last. "It's been a long week. Galiva’s been at the clinic, I had a botched illusion spell with Cancassi and then last night, I saw Arlon bring you down to the baths, and I just…"

I sink into the chair next to him. “Just what?”

Olbric groans and scrubs his face. I’ve noticed how he prefers to joke and dance around an issue rather that come at it head on, but he seems to be trying his hardest not to do that now. It's a moment longer before he answers. "I was _jealous."_

I blink in surprise, but Olbric keeps his face buried in his hands. I want to touch him, but he’s closed himself off so much that I don’t want to push him. Instead, I scoot my chair close so my knees just brush his. 

I don’t want to let this fester. When Arlon was making his rounds, I overheard Iona talking about Thaddius' and Ambra's relationship being strained since she's been back. I’ve seen how jealousy can create fractures, and I don’t want anything to cause that with Olbric. 

“Let’s talk about it,” I say gently. Olbric sighs and runs a hand over his head, but at least he finally looks at me. Unfortunately he looks away just as quick. Small steps. “What do you think made you feel that way?”

“It’s stupid,” he mutters.

“It’s not, though. Not if you’re feeling like this.”

Olbric rests his elbows on his knees, head in his hand. “Because of the… political situation with my father, Arlon’s never collared me,” he says at last. “We talked about doing it for my abjuration mastery, but he said he didn’t want to create unnecessary tension. At the time, I agreed with him. But then seeing you deep in it with him… I was jealous of _both_ of you. Wanting to _be_ the one to make you look like that, yet also wanting to _be_ you.” He sighs and rubs his eyes. “In the baths, it all just sort of hit me at once.”

I’m quiet as I digest that. “This was an intense week,” I admit. “Arlon did things with me that I don’t think anyone can copy. We agreed to a standing casting day every Monday. Guess I hadn’t exactly been joking when I said he’s ruined me to being collared by anyone else.”

Olbric deflates, and the hurt on his face sends an unpleasant jolt through me. His hazel eyes go back to evading. I cup his cheek and make him look at me. I hate feeling like I’ve wounded him, but I need him to understand.

“Olbric, I don’t _want _you to collar me,” I say. “Everything I did with Arlon was for casting, but what we do together - it goes beyond that. I want to laugh with you, and spend time with you, and _be_ with you.” I can’t stop a small laugh. “You make me feel like no one else can. Seeing you only one day a week would be unbearable.”__

__Olbric is quietly attentive as he listens to me. Then, he gives a short laugh. “God, and I was the one who suggested you talk to Arlon in the first place,” he mutters. “Guess I have no one to blame but myself.”_ _

__I snort at that and stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You shouldn’t be blaming anyone,” I point out. “No one’s at fault. Least of all you.” He gives me a small smile, and I lean forward to press a grateful kiss to his lips. “Is there anything I can do - or avoid doing to help you in the future?”_ _

__Olbric chuckles quietly. “I’ll be fine,” he says. “Though I think I’ll avoid the baths Monday evening. I know that Arlon’s helping you hone your craft, but God knows I don’t need to see you in a blissful post-fuck haze that I wasn’t the cause of.”_ _

__I smile and hold his head between my hands before kissing him again, letting it linger this time. Olbric relaxes, sighing against my lips. When I pull away, he smiles and closes his eyes as he leans into my hand._ _

__It sends an unexpected thrill through me, and I trail my thumb over his lips. Without a thought, Olbric pulls it into his mouth and sucks. I shiver, my eyes going wide as the thrill turns to a heady rush. It’s such a familiar gesture, yet I’m usually on the other end of it._ _

__“Has anyone ever collared you?” I ask._ _

__“No,” he says around my thumb. Is it just me, or does he sound a little breathless? His eyes are just as wide as mine as I explore the inside of his mouth before pulling my thumb away to let him speak. “Not really. Galiva and I tried but it just… wasn’t right for either of us.”_ _

__I hum as I trace the bow of his lower lip. “What if I collared you?”_ _

__Olbric’s breath hitches, and when he gives me that searching look, he seems to find something he didn’t expect. “I think I’d like that,” he says, definitely breathless now._ _

__The reality of what I’ve just proposed hits me like a falling boulder. “Will you give me a little time?” I ask even as a plan already starts to form in my head. “I’m… still new at this, and I want to be sure it’s _perfect.”__ _

__Olbric face breaks into a smile, and I’m so happy to see it. “I can wait,” he says._ _

__I echo his smile and lean forward. I barely brush his lips as I say, “I’ll make sure it’s worth it.”_ _


	10. Bad Divinings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attempt at divination goes awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everyone! Yesterday was Thanksgiving in the US, and I just want to say how thankful I am that you all found this story and stuck with it. Thank you for your comments and kudos! Y'all are amazing <3 
> 
> We're right around the halfway point! This chapter is a little bit of a turning point, and it also warrants a small content warning for sensory deprivation gone awry.

I take the weekend to relax and recover. By the time Monday rolls around, I feel ready to get back to it. That morning, I go to Arlon’s office with my collar around my neck. 

To my surprise, I’m not the first one there. I hear Allisande’s voice from behind the closed door, though at least it seems like a civil conversation this time. Her voice is too quiet for me to make out what she’s saying. I’m not about to let her be the reason I get spanked for being late, so I knock.

“Come in, Dominai,” Arlon calls. I smile as I step inside and close the door behind me. Arlon motions me over, and I give Allisande an apologetic grin before I kneel by his desk.

She raises an eyebrow and asks, “Am I ever going to be able to cast divination with Dom again, or are you keeping him?”

Arlon chuckles. “We have an agreement that every Monday, he belongs to me,” he says. “What he does outside of that time is up to him.”

I glance up at Allisande and wink. She rolls her eyes, and I can't help but chuckle. I'll find her and Margeurite tomorrow. Between abjuration practice and being collared, it’s been too long since I’ve been in the silver, and I feel a little bad about my absence. I haven’t given up trying to seek out information on Diran, and by the looks of it, neither has she.

“What brings you in so early?” Arlon asks. He rests his hand on my head, and it feels nice to be back under it.

Allisande takes a seat across from him with a sigh. "A question of magical theory," she says.

Arlon leans back in his chair. "Alright, lay it out."

"Margeurite and I had a thought about an alternative use for the silver," she says. "We've used it for dream walking to communicate with diviners in our sister tower, but we wondered about using that same theory to communicate with others."

Arlon frowns, and I get the feeling divination is not particularly high on his list of favored schools. "What others?" he asks. "Non-magical?"

Allisande shakes her head. "No, they were wizards. They're just dead."

I blink in surprise. Arlon pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Allis…"

"Hear me out!" she says with a scowl. "You won't let me try and infiltrate the palace to question Jaret and Lucien, so what if we can get in contact with the two that were killed?"

Arlon's hand clenches on the arm of his chair before he takes a steadying breath. "Allis, I know you want to get information, but this is bordering on heresy. What you're suggesting is _necromancy."_

"I disagree," Allisande says simply. "We're not _defiling a corpse._ We're using the silver to try and contact someone. Just because that someone is dead doesn't necessarily make it necromancy."

Arlon scoffs. "Try telling that to the clerics of the Lightbringer and again to the priestesses of Quietus. They will argue that any magic that tries to pierce the veil between life and death is necromancy," he says and rubs his eyes. When he focuses on Allisande again, he looks tired. "Are you asking me if I think it's possible or if you can try it?"

Allisande smiles sweetly. "I'm hoping the answer for both is yes.”

Arlon swears under his breath, brows furrowed. He drums his fingers against my head, and I don't think he even realizes he's doing it. I see the conflict behind his eyes and lean up so I can kiss his hand. He blinks and looks down at me as I bow. "What's your opinion, Dominai?"

"I think I agree with Allis that it's not necromancy," I say. From what I’ve read, the rules forbidding necromancy are pretty cut and dry. It’s as simple as _don’t defile a fucking corpse._

_"Thank you."_

"But to dream walk, you need something to connect you with the person you’re trying to contact, right? A lock of hair, or a personal item,” I say. It’s a part of divination I haven’t practiced in the silver, though I’ve cast with Margeurite before. “How are you going to get that from wizards that have been dead half a year?”

Allisande looks pleased by the question. “Because I believe there are ways to create a connection that runs deeper than a physical trinket. You proved that physical intimacy is enough to break through a non-detection,” she points out before leaning forward, an excited gleam in her blue eyes. “Dom, I think you might have sealed a connection with Virico the moment you put an arrow through his eye. Arlon, same can be said for you when you took down Reese.”

Arlon glances down at me, and I see the same unease on his face that I feel in my gut. I didn’t like learning the name of the man I killed, even if he did deserve it. The idea that his ghost is connected to me by virtue of the arrow I let fly makes my skin crawl.

“In other words, you need us to test your theory,” Arlon says through a sigh.

“It sure would be appreciated,” Allisande says brightly. “Otherwise, we’re at another dead end.”

I think that more than anything, convinces Arlon. We’re all desperate for information, and it seems to be enough to push aside the grandmaster’s misgivings. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll let you put me in the silver. This evening?”

“Done,” Allisande says before looking at me. “What about you, desk pet?”

I flush and look to Arlon. “Speak freely,” he says. “I won’t force you to something like this.”

I run a hand through my hair. I don’t like the idea of it, but if it works, if we're able to get a lead on Diran, it’ll be worth it. “I’ll do it,” I say.

“Ideal. We’ll make an evening of it,” Allisande says with a smile even as Arlon does a poor job of hiding his displeased groan. She comes around the desk and kisses Arlon’s cheek as she puts a hand on my head. “Thank you. Both of you.”

She sweeps out of the office, and Arlon sighs as he leans back in his chair. I rest my chin against his thigh and look up at him, trying to gauge his mood. He seems less than excited about what we’ve both agreed to, and when he glances down, he must see my unasked question. 

“Divination is not my favorite school,” he admits. “It’s all very inexact, and it requires a level of vulnerability that is… difficult for me. If I hadn’t been so hellbent on full mastery, I probably never would have attempted it.” He hooks a finger through my collar and draws me up to straddle his lap. “I have a feeling you will have more luck with this endeavor than I will.”

I settle comfortably on top of him and stamp down a flash of arousal at the familiar position. Even fully clothed, I can’t deny what he does to me. Godsdamn, but he’s trained me quick. 

But nothing gets past Arlon, and he grins as he pulls my face close. I expect to feel the nip of his teeth against my neck, but instead, his lips barely brush my skin as he purrs, “Good morning, Dominai.”

A full-bodied shudder runs through me, and I can’t stop my cock from stirring this time. “Good morning, sir.” His presses a deliberately soft kiss against my neck, and I barely stop a moan. Fucking hell, ten minutes in, and he’s already got me back into a headspace like I never left.

When he releases my collar and rests his hands on my hips, I feel a little dizzy, heady from his very presence. He cups my cheek and taps gently to get my attention. “You are allowed to speak freely. How have the last few days been for you?”

I lean into his hand and can’t stop a contented little sigh. “Good, for the most part,” I say. “No casting though. I think I needed a chance to recover.”

Arlon chuckles. “You and me both.”

I smile at that and turn to kiss his palm. “Did Cancassi come to talk to you?”

“They did,” he says. “I’ve given them one of the larger rooms on the first floor of the main tower. It has a private magiline bath in it to help with their leg. I’ve also gathered a few volunteers to help with the move after lunch, once Cancassi is up. I volunteered you as well.”

I chuckle at that. “I am yours to command, sir,” I say. “Though I’m happy to do it.”

“Thank you for convincing them to come see me. I didn’t realize how badly they were hurting,” Arlon says. “The Crux is too large for me to see everything, but it’s still frustrating when I feel like I’ve overlooked something important.”

Even as comfortable as I am with Arlon, my stomach still knots with nerves when I ask, “Did Olbric come to see you?” I’m not trying to pry, but I have a feeling he might've after we talked. It’ll make what I’m going to ask next a little easier. 

Arlon gives me a curious look. “No, he didn’t. Should he have?”

I shake my head and look away. “No - no, we just had… an interesting talk a couple of days ago,” I say. 

“Interesting how?” 

It’s hard not to feel like I’m betraying Olbric’s trust a little bit, but if I want to do this, I need Arlon’s help. “He told me that seeing us in the baths stirred up some jealousy. Jealousy for both of us,” I say. “He told me that you’ve never been able to collar him.”

“Not for lack of want,” Arlon says through a sigh. “Olbric is so godsdamn beautiful it takes my breath away sometimes.”

I chuckle at that. “I know the feeling.” I know I shouldn’t, but I feel a little shy when I add, “I told him that I don’t think I can be collared by anyone else but you. So instead… I offered to collar him. And he agreed.”

Arlon blinks in surprise before a grin spreads across his face. “Bold move,” he says appreciatively. “Do you feel ready for that?”

I groan and bury my head against his shoulder. “Not at _all,”_ I say. “We were talking, and it just sort of came out. I asked him to give me some time to figure this out because, _fucking hell,_ I don’t want to screw this up.”

“You won’t,” Arlon says, and his conviction helps push aside some of my doubt. “I assume you’re telling me this because you’d like my help?”

I look up at him. “Please?”

Arlon chuckles and rests his hands on my hips, his thumbs stroking up under my shirt. “I was going to let you do this on your own time, but now I’m going to assign you some work.” I blink at him in surprise. “How many times would you say you’ve cast?”

I swallow. “I dunno - a handful or two?” I say. 

Arlon hums at that and tilts my chin up to make me look at him. I've started to realize just how often I try to avoid eye contact - not just with him, but with everyone. “Now that you’ve seen what I do to put someone into the right headspace, the next step for you to build your confidence is to actually _do_ the damn thing,” he says. “So I want you to spend the next couple of weeks casting. I want you to cast in different schools, even the ones that scare you. Find someone to monitor if you’re uncomfortable, but cast all the same. Cast with Olbric and pay attention to the type of conduit he is. Learn what makes him tick when he’s in that position. _Talk_ to him. Negotiations are important with collaring. Find out what you both want out of this."

I swallow but push my unease aside as I drag my fingers through my hair. "Yes, sir."

“You won’t be perfect," Arlon says. "You’ll probably make mistakes and feel foolish at times, but don’t let it discourage you. Trust yourself. And then, when you feel ready, collar Olbric and bring him here. I can’t collar him myself, but I can monitor you while you do it.”

I throw my arms around him so abruptly I think I startle him. I bury my face against his neck, gratitude flooding me. “Thank you.”

Arlon chuckles and returns the embrace. “You’re very welcome,” he says. “I look forward to seeing you embrace your dominance. You just have to find it first.”

I smile against his neck. “I will,” I say, and for once, I feel confident in the answer.

#

I spend most of the morning under Arlon’s desk, sorting through spell notes and tallying the number of focuses used. I get a bit of voyeuristic pleasure seeing who is casting what and with who. Olbric and Cancassi have been going at it this past week with transmutation and illusion, though Galiva is notably absent with all the time she's been giving to the clinic. It's nice to see Iona and Marvin's names pop up as well. There was a time after we got them back from Diran that neither of them would cast or conduit, but they seem to be reclaiming it on their own terms.

Just after lunch, Arlon sends me off to help move Cancassi into their new room with permission to speak freely. I'm glad for it, because the second Cancassi sees me, they scowl. "I thought you were just finished being collared!"

I hook a finger coyly through a ring on my collar. "Guess I wasn’t quite ready to be free yet. I still belong to him one day a week.”

Cancassi chuckles as they look me over. "Arlon truly has made you his bitch."

I kiss their cheek and say, "But right now he’s lent me out to be yours. What should I grab first?"

Alix, Ambra and Olbric all show up to help, and we make quick work of moving Cancassi's things down to the first floor. The Maeve has more clothes than I could have imagined tucked into their drawers and closet, and I spend a couple of trips just moving those. It takes so many trips up and down the stairs that even I start to hate them before we're through. 

It takes over an hour to get everything moved and then another to get it all organized inside of Cancassi's new room. By the time we’re finished, Cancassi looks exhausted but happy as they sit heavily on their new bed, carefully stretching their bad leg out in front of them. I flop down behind them with a groan even as Alix settles on the ground beside us.

“Still can’t believe you get a big one,” Olbric says as he sits next to Cancassi. He pulls out the silvery magiline wrap he’s used to soothe some of my aches and pains in the past, and holds it out to Cancassi. “Here. A housewarming present. Or roomwarning, I guess.”

Cancassi looks at him in surprise. “This took you a full year to make - I can’t accept this.”

“Like hell you can’t,” Olbric says. “Besides, I’m two years into a bigger one.”

Cancassi takes the silvery cloth in their long fingers before setting it on their lap. They pull Olbric into a tight embrace. “Thank you.”

Olbric smiles and kisses their cheek. “You’re welcome. You’ll put it to better use than I would anyway.”

“You still staying away from evocation?” Ambra asks quietly from her seat in the chair by the window.

“Not avoiding it. Just… taking a step back,” Olbric says through a sigh. “I’m not ready to be sent back out again.”

“You know Arlon wouldn’t make you go,” I point out.

Olbric waves a hand. “I know. I just can’t help but feel guilty. If I don’t go, then someone else has to.”

“You’re allowed to take care of yourself first,” Alix says quietly. “Arlon understands."

I look at the quiet wizard in surprise. He’s sitting with his arms around his half crossed knees, but his hooded eyes are focused on the floor. He’s got the sun-kissed copper skin of an islander, and straight black hair that he keeps cut short. He’s as androgynous as Cancassi, with high cheekbones and a pretty face that makes him look younger than he probably is. 

After Allisande, he spent the longest amount of time in the cave, and it’s obvious that it still weighs heavy on him. In the past six months, I haven’t seen much of him, and I wonder if that’s not why Arlon asked him to help today. Something to get him out of his room.

“How are you faring?" Cancassi asks gently. 

Alix shrugs one shoulder. "Alright," he says. "Haven't made a spell since I’ve been back, but Arlon's assured me he won't kick me out. I think I just need more time."

He's not wearing his robe so I ask, "What masteries do you have?"

"Abjuration, evocation, illusion, transmutation and enchantment," he says.

I can't stop a whistle of admiration. The only people I can think of with more masteries are Allis, Arlon and Garrett. An idea springs to my mind, but I hesitate to say it. I hope it’s not presumptuous to ask. "I've been having some trouble with casting, so Arlon suggested that I find someone who can monitor me while I try a few different schools,” I say at last. “With your experience… would you be interested?"

It feels a little strange. I don't know Alix except in passing, but he looks at me in surprise before a small smile quirks his lips. I'd even say he looks a little pleased. "Sure," he says. "Just let me know when. My schedule is… pretty open."

I return the smile and catch Olbric’s eye. "Once I find a willing conduit, I'll let you know."

#

On our way to the divination tower, I tell Arlon about Alix. "I'm glad that he agreed," he says. "The past few months have been a struggle for him. He's a hell of a wizard, though. Has a unique perspective that I think you'll find valuable."

I want to ask what he means, but we arrive at our door on the first floor of the divination tower, and Arlon knocks. Allisande opens it and greets us with a smile. “Thank you both for coming,” she says and steps aside to let us in.

“At least it’s gotten you talking to me again,” Arlon says with a shadow of a grin. It’s strange to see him look nervous. I didn’t think anything could shake him. 

It’s a bigger casting room than the one I usually use. Comfortable chairs rest along the wall, as if people spend a lot of time in here. If fishing for strong divinations, people probably do. 

Margeurite walks over to kiss my cheek. “We have missed you,” she says. “Thank you for agreeing to this.”

“Missed you too.” I look at the three magiline pillars that cut a line through the center of the room. “Is there anything I should know about this kind of divination? I’ve never actually done any dream walking.”

Margeurite slips my robe off of my shoulders. “This is all very experimental,” she admits. “But focus is key. Dream walking is difficult because you are not only navigating the silver, but to an extent, someone else’s mind. It can be easy to get lost.”

I run a hand through my hair. “I’ll bet.” It’s easy enough to get lost in the silver on it’s own. Fortunately getting lost tends to lead me to interesting places. It’s only become frustrating with this whole Diran situation. At times, I feel like I can almost see his face in the flash of colors, but it never stays long enough for me to grab on to. 

“When I’m dream walking, I tend to imagine that the person touching me is the one I’m trying to contact,” Margeurite says. “It makes it a little easier to stay focused.”

I wince at that. All I remember of Virico is that sneer. His burned, leaking flesh stretched it into a snarl. That, and the sound it made when my arrow punched into his eye. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

Behind me, I hear Arlon’s frayed chuckle. His fingers are gentle as he unbuckles the collar from around my neck before kissing the skin underneath. “We’ll do our best,” he says. I take a steadying breath before I undress. Arlon does the same, and he kisses my head once more before he heads left of the center pillar. I take the right. 

“How long are we in for?” he asks.

Allis puts her hand on the far pillar. “I thought we’d try three hours. We will do a verbal check in every hour.” Meaning they’ll take the gag out to give us a chance to stop. It’s not the longest I’ve gone, but it’s close to it. Margeurite kisses my cheek as she takes up a spot on the closest pillar to me. 

Arlon sighs and rolls his shoulders. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.” He gives me a wry grin. “Ready?”

I let out a breath. “Ready, sir.”

The silver creeps up steadily, and I relax into it. The familiar warmth covers me as it crawls up my legs and hips. I roll my shoulders before it gets to my arms and lean my head back just a little, so when the silver slides over my neck, it supports me like a pillow. It fills my mouth, pools in my ears. I close my eyes and fall into it. 

After a couple weeks away, it feels nice to be back. The floor sinks away, and for a timeless moment, I just float. After a couple months casting with Margeurite and Allis, I’ve asked them to just let me hang for a bit to start. Being left alone in it used to scare me, but now I find it strangely comforting. I let my mind go blank, allowing the thoughts of the cave and Virico disappear into the void as I focus on the steady in and out of my breath.

I’m almost dozing by the time someone touches me. It’s a ghost of a touch, feather light against my arm. I let out a loud sigh to let them know I feel them before their hands rest against my back. I’ve cast with them so often in the past few months that we’ve begun to understand each other's unspoken languages.

I can tell just by how she starts that it’s Margeurite touching me. Allis goes straight for my bits, but Margeurite has a slower approach. Her touches are gentle, almost reverent. Strong fingers massage my back and shoulders, my arms and hands. Every finger is stretched before she poses me comfortably. She does the same to my legs and feet, and I give another long, appreciative sigh. 

Only then does she start to explore. My legs are spread before she moves my arms so my hands are behind my neck. She angles my elbows out, and I groan at the gentle stretch. Her mouth teases over my chest, teeth nipping gently before she soothes the spot with a kiss. 

Her hand cups my crotch as her mouth trails down my navel and hip. She kisses down my thigh before moving to my cock. Her tongue slides over my tip before she pulls me into her mouth, and I can’t stop an appreciative groan. I've missed this. 

The silver offers her no resistance as she coaxes me to attention. She takes her time, dragging her mouth over my cock, tongue doing things to my sensitive head that make me groan. I savor the slow worship.

She pulls away, and a second later, the silver is pulled from my mouth. It doesn’t seem like enough time could have passed already, but I answer all the same. _I’m good._ I know I speak, but my ears can’t hear it. A second later, the silver fills my mouth again, and the brief break is over.

Margeurite starts in hotter this time. She pulls my legs apart a little wider before spreading my cheeks. My ass is still a little sore from my week with Arlon, but her lotion slicked finger feels incredible as she massages me there, too. A second finger pushes into me, stretching and spreading me gently. When they're pulled out, I can’t stop a little groan of disappointment. 

After a weekend off, my body responds eagerly, more than ready. Something curved slides into me, settling against that spot. It starts to buzz, and I squeak in surprise, the jolt of sensation reminding me why I’m in here. 

That’s right, _focus._

The damn thing isn't making it easy. The hands leave me, and I’m left with nothing but the buzzing thing angled just so inside of me. It hits in a good way, but it’s not strong enough to do anything more than tease me. I struggle more out of habit than anything, trying to get it to press a little harder, a little deeper but the silver holds me helpless. Margeurite lets me stew like that until I’m groaning around the gag, tense and wanting.

Only then does she start again. She grabs the base of the toy and pulls it almost all the way out before she starts to fuck me with it, moving slow. It only aggravates my desire, wringing a tormented moan out of me. The buzzing finally stops, and I groan in relief. Even so, I can’t stop a quiet whine when the thing is pulled out of me. 

Something bigger replaces it, stretching my sore hole as it slides into me. Margeurite starts stroking my cock again even as she drags the phallus out before thrusting it deeper. I grunt and can’t do anything but submit to it, feeling the delicious stretch as she thrusts in time with the tug of her hand. 

The phantom voices start to speak to me. The barely there flitters of conversation. Right - _focus._ I try to pick through them, try to find the voice I’m looking for. 

Virico hadn’t said much to me, but his sneering voice sticks in my memory like a burr. _Hope you’re a good shot._ He’d been so confident. So sure that I wouldn’t risk shooting Olbric to get to him. He hadn't realized how good of a shot I was.

The silver is pulled from my mouth again, and I give the same affirmative. Final stretch then. The phallus starts to speed up, fucking me faster. I remember Olbric hanging from his wrists, Virico sneering up at him with that awful, burned face. I remember his hungry intent, the eagerness for what he was going to do. Olbric was helpless and unwilling and Virico _liked_ it.

It makes me sick to think about. My thoughts jump around, sinking to a dark place as I imagine all that went on in that cave. I can almost see it in Allisande’s eyes, hear it in Alix’s voice. I groan for a different reason, straining against the silver as the voices seem to condense into one.

 _Hope you’re a good shot._ Virico’s voice echoes, growing louder in the void. His last words repeat, drowning out the other voices that vie for my attention. I push the others away as I try to focus on his.

_Hope you’re a good shot._

_You’re a good shot._

_Good shot._

_Get shot._

_Get SHOT._

His presence seems to cut through the void like an arrow. He slams into me, all fury and rage, and if the silver wasn’t holding me, I’d be knocked flat. As it is, I’m stunned so badly I can’t even shout. All the while, Margeurite continues, but for a sickening moment, I feel like it’s _him_ doing it to me. Panic freezes my breath in my chest, and that fear gives him a foothold. 

_You did this to me._ His spirit snarls and tears at my own, vengeance searing like a brand against my mind. He’s not a singular stream of thought. Instead he’s like a river, threatening to pull me under. The anger and hatred layer over one another, so loud that I can’t think, can’t focus. 

The hand on my cock tugs harder, and I shout into the gag even as what’s left of Virico rips into me. I feel his presence like so many needles, piercing through flesh and bone into a deeper part of me. They grab like hooks, and tug. It feels like he’s trying to drag me out of my own body, but I scramble for a grip, struggling not to lose myself in the barrage.

_What I was going to do to your thot of an evoker is nothing compared to what I’ll do to you._

Rage slices through me, and for a second, it burns hotter than my own fear. I latch onto that anger and remember how I’d used it in the cave. Let it steady my hand as I’d leveled my arrow. The cold calm of fury pierces through Virico, through the haze of the silver. I feel my head clear, my focus narrow in. 

A chorus of _no no no_ echoes through me, but I ignore it as I grab onto Virico’s spirit and yank it from mine.

 **Where’s Diran?** The crack of my question echoes like thunder in the void. I feel Virico quake.

_Fuck off fuck off fuck OFF._

But no matter how he struggles, I keep hold of him, constricting like a hand around his throat. He doesn’t have any power here. He’s just the echo of a dead man, and I sought him out. **Where is he?**

I feel Marguerite double down on her efforts, and even though my mind is the furthest thing from finishing, she seems intent to get me there. I have a hard time following the flurry of thought, as if Virico’s not sure what to settle on. I see the cave, the trees of the Hobokins, the market of Straetham, but then there’s somewhere I don’t recognize - a large castle set on a hill of rock, safe behind a wall of stone. I smell brine and hear what sounds like the roar of water before it’s gone, quick as it appeared.

I shout as Margeurite tips me over the edge. The sensation is overwhelming, and for the first time in the silver, not in a good way. It seems to last forever, even though I only want it to end. When it finally does, Virico has retreated back into the silence, but I know he’s still there. The quiet is oppressive, the stillness hiding the threat of him. It’s like I can feel him watching me, waiting to try and tear into me again. 

I sob as the silver is pulled from my mouth. _Please, please get me out,_ I beg though I can’t even hear if I’m making words. I must because the silver sloughs off like water. My hearing rushes back to me, and I blink through tears before I stagger into Arlon’s strong grip. 

He swears, and his voice is so loud after the silence that I flinch. Even so, he’s gentle as he scoops me up and pulls me into his lap. I bury my face against his shirt and can’t stop another sob as it breaks past my lips. “You’re alright,” he murmurs gently. “You’re safe.”

I shake my head and try to wipe away the tears that just won’t stop. I manage to choke out, “I’m not doing that again.”

"Dom I -"

Arlon cuts Allis off with a sharp, "Don't." 

A cool hand rests on my head, smoothing my hair back. I flinch before I realize it's Margeurite. She's gentle as she kneels next to Arlon and me, her very presence a calm comfort. A blanket is pulled over me, and finally, the panic starts to fade. I take a shuddering breath and sink against Arlon's chest, wiping my eyes with the heel of my hand.

"What happened?" Arlon asks gently.

"I found Virico. And he was _furious."_ I shudder and say, "For a second, it felt like it was _him_ outside of the silver."

"Oh gods, Dominai," Margeurite whispers, her eyes wide with horror. "I-I didn't realize."

I shake my head. "There was no way you could have." I swallow and rub my face. "I managed to ground myself. I fought back. I asked where Diran was and he… didn't seem to know. I saw the cave, and the Hobokins, a flash of Straetham, but then there was this castle on a rocky hill. I think it must have been on the coast. I heard water."

"Stormhold," Arlon mutters. "It’s the heart of the Barclay’s kingdom in Immenbach. Oh the southern coast of the Reach. If Diran is there, we can't get to him."

Somehow, that makes me feel worse. If I had been able to get useful information, maybe it would have been worth it. As it is, I went through all that for nothing. Tears sting at the corner of my eyes all over again. “Fuck.”  
Arlon tightens his grip. “Come on, let’s go to the baths.”

I nod mutely as Arlon helps me to my feet. As soon as I’m up, Margeurite pulls me into a fierce embrace. “I’m so sorry, Dom,” she whispers. I swallow and hold her tight, cheek pressed against her curled horn. 

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “It’s not your fault.”

Behind me, I hear Arlon speaking in a low voice to Allisande. “Never again,” he says sternly.

“Arlon -”

 _“No,_ Allis,” he says. “Information is not worth letting more of our own get hurt by them. You of all people should understand that.”

I glance back just in time to see Allisande snap her mouth shut, lips drawn into a thin, bloodless line. Words seem to fail her. Instead, she turns sharply and walks from the room. Arlon swears in tzigaro, and Margeurite sighs before she kisses my cheek. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Margeurite says, offering a wan smile to the grandmaster. “Thank you both for trying. We’ll just have to find a different way.”

Even though my shaking has subsided, Arlon insists on carrying me down to the baths. I let him, holding my clothes and collar in a bundle against my chest. It must be late because we don’t run into anyone on the way. I’m glad for it. Arlon sets me down by the pool, and I set my clothes aside before I sink into the water, pulling my knees up to my chest.

I watch Arlon strip his shirt off and realize what it must mean. “What made you stop?” I ask quietly.

Arlon sets his pants aside before he sinks into the pool with me, pulling me close. I’m grateful for the comfortable weight of his arms and relax against him. “I don’t know,” he says at last. “In the second hour, the silver just started to feel… wrong. It was like I could feel him watching me. As strange as it sounds, it felt like that moment before an ambush. I stopped before the third hour.” Arlon shakes his head and gives a wry grin. “Told you that you’d have better luck than I would.”

The sound I make is too bitter to be called a laugh. “Lot of good it did us.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t discount yourself,” Arlon admonishes gently. “You proved Allisande’s theory. You were brave enough to try it and follow through to the end. We may not have gotten the information we were hoping for, but this wasn’t a failure - even if it cost more than I’m willing to let anyone pay again.” He sighs and presses a kiss to my temple. “I’m so sorry you experienced that.”

I shake my head and say, “I decided to do it. I knew the risks.” I let out a sigh as Arlon tightens his grip on me. I sink into the safety of his arms and close my eyes. “He could be anywhere, but one of the places Virico thought he might be is in Straetham. Can we put a watch out for him?”

“The city guard has been told to keep an eye out since spring,” Arlon says. “But Straetham is a large city, and who knows how hard they’re looking? We can assign some of our own patrols, though we risk Thermilious claiming I’m infringing on the guard.”

He sounds as frustrated as I feel. It’s like our hands are tied at every turn we take. “How do you think he’s creating a non-detection?” I ask after a moment. “It’s got to be some sort of abjuration.”

Arlon sighs, and I can tell it’s a question he’s been trying to puzzle out as well. “That’s my thought,” he says. “I have a couple of theories, though I don’t like the process for either. One involves using the silver in conjunction with an abjuration bind, but Diran doesn’t have the amount of magiline necessary for such a spell. The other is a mixture of abjuration and illusion. Drugging someone to incoherency before leaving them tied for an extended time.”

I shudder, remembering Olbric hanging in shackles, his arms wrenched at an awful angle, though he was too drugged to realize it. “That sounds like the likely one,” I mutter before a thought strikes me. I gasp and sit upright, making Arlon jump in surprise. “Isa.”

“What?”

 _“Isa,_ the mercenary,” I say. “We’ve only been focusing on Diran for divination, but what about her?”

Arlon blinks and leans back against the lip of the pool as he mulls that over. “Finding her will be the hard part, but the chances that she’s under a non-detection are slimmer than Diran,” he says. “Even if she’s no longer working for him, it might be worth it to try. Every merc has a price, and the Crux can afford hers if it means finding Diran.” He runs a hand through his hair and says, “You should be the one to tell Allisande and Margeurite that lead. I have a feeling Allis is back to not speaking to me.”

I lean up to kiss his cheek and am rewarded with a quiet sigh. “She’ll come around,” I say. “With Diran still out there, I can’t imagine how heavy it weighs on her.”

Arlon sighs and rubs his eyes, looking tired. “I know,” he says. “I’m not trying to be unsympathetic, but I can’t have her risking you or anyone else for the sake of progress. We won’t - we _can’t_ stoop to their level.”

I lean against his chest, fingers tracing idle patterns over his skin. “We won’t."


	11. Evocation Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai tries casting evocation for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday all! Thanks again for your kind comments on this story. For the folks who like Olbric, I think you'll enjoy this chapter. I certainly enjoyed writing it! Also be sure to check out the new Tales from the Crux, featuring the divination attempt Olbric mentions :P

Sleep is a long time coming that night. Every time I close my eyes, I feel like Virico is waiting for me, lurking just on the other side of the veil between here and Quietus. Arlon is patient and understanding. He stays awake with me, fingers stroking my hair as he murmurs quiet assurances every time I jolt awake. Exhaustion finally catches up with me, and I fall asleep with his arms secure around me. 

When I wake the next morning, I carefully extract myself from his grip. I’d wait for him to get up, but I have a feeling he’ll sleep late today, and he deserves the rest. I don’t know how long it took me to fall asleep, but Arlon was still murmuring quiet comforts to me as I did.

I’ve gotten rather good at sneaking around without waking him. I still take the time to set his clothes and robe out for him before polishing his shoes and setting them out under his chair. He hasn’t ordered me to do it, but I know he appreciates it. I stoke the fire again and press a light kiss to his cheek before I leave.

When I head down to the mess, I’m surprised to find Allisande already up. It’s only when I grab my breakfast and go to sit next to her that I realize she’s been waiting for me. I yelp as she throws her arms around me, and barely manage to save my cup of tea from scalding my hand. 

“Hell Allis, let me put my stuff down,” I say through a laugh.

“Dom, I am so sorry,” she says, and it’s only then I realize she’s crying. I swear and set my breakfast on the table before I pull her with me to sit on the bench.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I say gently and tilt her face up. There are bags under her eyes, and it’s obvious she hasn’t slept a wink. _“I’m_ okay. Shit went sideways, but I promise I’m fine.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the full truth either. 

She shakes her head, her red hair falling in front of her eye. “It was a bad idea from the start,” she says. “Virico was the most vicious of them, and I still asked you to do it.”

“I knew the risks,” I say. “And I agreed to it anyway. It was a good theory, and it was worth it to try.” It doesn’t do anything to ease the guilt written on her face, so I say, “But I had another idea last night.” She looks up at me and wipes the tears on her sleeve. “What if we track Isa?”

She blinks in confusion. “Who?”

“The mercenary that Diran hired,” I say, equally confused now. I thought she’d be jumping at that, but I’m met with another blank look. “We caught up to her outside of the cave. Galiva interrogated her under enchantment. She told us she was working for him.”

Allisande drags her fingers through her hair, frowning. “A woman?” she asks, and I nod. “Diran never let us out of that room except to bathe. There could have been a whole crew of mercs that we never knew about. I never saw her, but I think I heard her voice.” I see her mind start to work behind those intelligent blue eyes. “I’m not familiar enough with her to try it.”

“I don’t know anything more than her face and her voice,” I admit. “But Galiva questioned her. It might be worth asking her to conduit.”

Allisande nods, and I see a little bit of hope break through her guilt. She wraps her arms around me again, and I return the embrace, holding her tight. “You know the last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you or anyone else, right?” Her arms tighten around me, her face buried against my neck. “I’m so sorry it went so wrong.”

“I know.” I press a kiss to the side of her head. “It just… shook me, is all. I promise I’ll be okay.” I tilt her head up and catch her lips to prove it, breathing in her quiet little sigh. "I know I say that I’ll try anything twice - but I think you found the thing I’m only going to do once.”

Allisande gives a wet laugh and kisses my cheek. “And I’d never ask you to try again,” she promises. “No one should have to know what it was like in that cave.” I see that darkness behind her eyes again, but she pulls away with a wan smile. “Thank you for the lead, Dom. I’ll talk to Galiva.”

“Good luck,” I say and mean it. “Know that we all want to find him as bad as you do.”

Allisande nods and rubs her tired eyes. “I know,” she says. “And we will. I’m sure of it.”

#

After I eat, I head towards Olbric’s room. It’s far too early for him, so I don’t knock as the focus on his door clicks open to let me in. He’d given me permission to come whenever I needed to, and I sure need it now. I wasn’t lying to Allisande when I said I was okay, but yesterday definitely rattled me. Arlon helped me through the worst of it last night, but all I want to do now is see Olbric. 

I slip quietly into his room. He's lying on his side, curled up under his blankets, breathing heavy and slow. I put my robe over his chair and slip my shoes off before I slide into his bed behind him. He shifts just slightly, a contented little sigh escaping him as I drape my arm over his waist. It's warm and comfortable in his room, and I start to doze as I hold him. I'm not sure how much time passes, but the sun is up by the time he starts to stir.

“Hey,” I murmur gently, so I don’t startle him. 

He lets out a quiet groan and stretches before he rolls to face me with a smile. "This is a rather nice way to wake up," he murmurs. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, and his smile fades a little. "What's wrong?"

I tell him what happened in the silver, and his eyes widen in horror as his hand cups my cheek. I lean into him and say, “I’m fine. Just… a little rattled, still.”

“I don’t blame you,” he says. “Virico was a right delightful bastard from what I can remember. Was responsible for the black eye and the spit lip.” I see the shadow cross his face, but he forces it aside with a smile. “I don’t know how you do it. Divination scares the shit out of me.”

I don’t want to talk about Virico either. My grin comes out crooked. A small part of me agrees with him. “What happened when you tried it?” I ask. 

Olbric gives a wry grin. “Learned I’m afraid of confined spaces and got a muscle cramp all at once. Margeurite was laughing so hard she had trouble getting the silver off me. Was not my proudest moment.”

“Really?” I can’t stop a laugh. “You’re an _abjuration wizard._ Being confined is kind of what you do.”

“At least let a man squirm!” He says it with such righteous indignation that I can’t help but laugh. It persists until my sides start to hurt. I feel Olbric’s grin as he pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. 

I pull back so I can look at him, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. I’m struck again by how beautiful he is. Even disheveled from sleep, he makes my heart skip a beat when he gives me that look. He usually wears his thick black hair tied back, but it _does_ something to me when he puts it down. 

I slide my hands through it and grip gently at the roots before tugging his head back. His little gasp of surprise sends a thrill through me. “I could make you squirm today,” I offer. Olbric shivers as I kiss down his neck before nipping gently. He gives a sweet little groan. Well, that's definitely encouraging.

“Give me a second to wake up first, then I’m all yours.”

#

While Olbric gets breakfast, I seek out Alix. He’s on the second floor of the abjuration tower, just a couple of doors down from Galiva. His door opens as I approach, and I hear Arlon’s deep voice before Alix laughs. 

The grandmaster steps from the room, and he goes to close the door before he catches sight of me. “Uncanny timing,” Arlon murmurs, and I realize they must have been talking about _me_ during their weekly check-in. “Good morning, Dominai. I didn’t get a chance to see how you were feeling this morning.”

The concern is still there, and I feel a little bad for leaving before he got up. I close the distance between us and have to lean up to kiss his cheek. “I’m fine, sir,” I say, slipping into it even without the collar on. “Thank you.”

Arlon grins. “I’m glad.”

I try to shake it off. No good slipping into the wrong headspace now. My nerves are already squirming. “I’m casting an evocation spell with Olbric today.”

Arlon’s grin widens, and he squeezes my shoulders. “Then I won’t distract you." He kisses the top of my head before heading off down the hall. "Have a good time."

I flush red, but before I reach Alix's door, he comes out of it. He pulls his robe on, displaying all five of his masteries on his sleeves. "I assume you're looking for a monitor, yeah? I'm in," he says and flashes me a white-toothed smile. Whatever conversation he and Arlon had seems to have put him in a good mood. 

Well that's one worry erased. I was afraid I was springing it on him too quick. "Thank you."

Alix falls into step beside me as we head for the stairs. "What do you have in mind for a spell?" 

I tell him, and he grins with obvious approval. "Ambitious, but I think you can do it," Alix says. "You're not planning on using beeswax, are you?"

"Gods no, it burns way too hot," I say. "I found some in the market with Galiva a few months ago. Haven't had a chance to use them, though I tested them on myself awhile ago."

"Good," Alix says. "It sounds like you're ready. Do you feel ready?"

I give a small laugh and run my hand through my hair. "Not really," I admit. I can’t shake the feeling that I could seriously hurt someone with evocation. "Casting evocation scares the hell out of me."

"Well, you couldn't have a better conduit," Alix says. "Olbric likes pain more than your average evoker, and he’s not afraid to use a stop if he has to. Though if you can push his limit, I’ll be impressed.” He shoots me a wry grin, and I realize that he’s probably cast with Olbric before too. Can’t deny that that’s a pretty image in my head. “You’ll do fine.”

I return the grin and hope he's right. We make it to Olbric's usual casting room and find him already waiting for us. He's even got a fire started in the hearth to chase the cold from the room. He beams at me as we enter, and I feel the knot of anxiety release a little. Alix comes in behind us and closes the door before taking a seat in the spare chair. 

"You're alright with Alix monitoring?" I ask.

Olbric grins and winks at the man. "And more, if you want."

Alix chuckles and leans back comfortably. "Nope. You're all Dom's today. I think you'll have more than enough fun without me."

I drape my arms over Olbric’s shoulders. “Anything you don’t want me doing?” I ask. In the past, he’s asked me to avoid certain areas - whether they’re sore, or he’s saving the spot for a higher caliber spell. 

“One small limit today," he says and rubs the back of his neck. "Don't cinch my arms up over my head. Cancassi tried it for an illusion spell a couple of days ago and it, ah, dredged up some bad memories."

I immediately understand why. It's how Virico dislocated his shoulder. I pull him into a kiss, and it’s enough to chase the shadows from behind his eyes. “Got it." 

Olbric smiles against my lips before I let go and head to the cabinet. I grab two coils of rope that I store in the pocket of my robe for now. Next, I grab the bedroll from the bottom drawer and lay it out on the stone floor. I'm all too aware of Olbric and Alix watching me, and I try not to feel foolish as I get everything set up. I scrape my fingers through my hair, trying to stamp out my nerves. 

“Go ahead and strip for me."

“Oh, you want me to _strip." _Olbric turns his back to me before pulling his shirt off slow. He gives me a lewd look over his shoulder, and I can’t help but chuckle.__

__“You’re ridiculous.”_ _

__“And you love it.” He kicks his slippers off before shimmying his pants down, waggling his hips at me as he does. I press a hand over my grin as I watch him, trying not to laugh. He kicks his clothes aside before looking at me over his shoulder. I walk over and can’t help but give his ass a little swat before I grab his arm. He melts against me as I stroke over his bare skin._ _

__He shivers in anticipation, and it’s a thrill to have him naked and exposed while I’m still fully clothed. My cock stirs even as I reach down to toy with his. His request not to have his arms tied up over him changes my plans a little, but I can adapt. I put my hands on his hips and walk him over to bedroll, fondling him all the way._ _

__With a gentle nudge, he goes to his knees. I smile down at him, seeing the naked anticipation on his face._ _

__After feeling so helpless last night, this is exactly what I need. For the first time, I feel ready to cast. To be in control. It’s a heady, powerful feeling to have Olbric naked and kneeling in front of me. I tilt his chin up, my thumb brushing his lips. “Lay on your front.”_ _

__Olbric does, and I can’t resist giving his perky ass another little swat. I’m rewarded with a little yelp. “I have good news for you,” I say as I pull the two candles from my pocket and set them on the ground out of his sight. “You get to stay untied for now.”_ _

__“Oh really?” he says curiously, and I can see him trying to figure out what spell I’m weaving. I walk over to the fireplace and light both of my candles, one white and one black. I set the black one on the ground, but keep the white one in hand as I let the wax melt and pool around the wick. Then, I walk up behind Olbric before I drip the wax onto his back._ _

__He yelps in surprise, arching a little on the bedroll before sinking back down with a groan. “Oh I see,” he says._ _

__I can’t stop a grin. “Too hot?”_ _

__“No, not at all.” He relaxes back against the mat, resting his head on his hands and closing his eyes. I kneel by him and hold the candle on it’s side, letting the wax drip steadily over him. The closer I bring the candle, the hotter the wax is when it hits his skin, but Olbric just moans and curls his hands into fists. I kneel beside him and put my hand on his lower back to pin him as I bring the candle a little closer, dripping it onto his ass. He chuckles and kicks his feet against the ground, grinning from ear to ear._ _

__His enjoyment is obvious, and for an evocation wizard like him, this amount of pain is probably just a warm up. Good thing this is just the warm up. After his back gets a good sprinkling of white, I grab the black candle. It’s got a good puddle of melted wax built up, and I hold it about a foot over Olbric before I drip it onto the back of his shoulders. He gasps, arching a little off of the mat._ _

__“I tested these, and turns out, the black burns hotter,” I say with a grin._ _

__“No shit,” Olbric says and buries his face against his arm. I see him tense when more drips onto his back, making a pattern around the white. I aim for the spots I haven’t hit yet and am rewarding with his endearing little twitches and gasps._ _

__“Good thing you don’t have a lot of hair or this would be terrible to get off,” I tease and deliberately let a few drops fall onto the back of his thighs, where there definitely _is_ some hair. Olbric chuckles into his arm and squirms as I get the soft underside of his ass._ _

__I don’t stop until he has a good coating covering his back and ass. I pick one cooled drop off of his side, and smile as he sucks in a breath. Underneath it, his russet skin is reddened even further. I grin as I peel another piece off before kissing the sensitive flesh. Olbric’s groan is like music, and I blow what little remains of the candles out._ _

__I stroke down his back, flaking off pieces of wax that I know I’ll have to clean up later. The servants would do it, but I’m not about to make them sweep up all this. Ah well, it’s worth it. I'm rather impressed with the picture I've made on his skin._ _

__Olbric shivers as I pull away, and when he looks up at me, his eyes are glazed with pleasure. I grin and offer him a hand up. “Ready to keep going?”_ _

__Olbric raises an eyebrow but he takes my hand. He sheds more wax as he gets up, and I can’t help but chuckle. “Some of it’s being stubborn.” I pick off a large chunk at the base of his spin and am rewarded with his quiet groan. “Guess we better find out a way to get it off.”_ _

__“I bet you’ll figure out something,” Olbric teases, and I chuckle as I guide him over to the wall. I take one of the coils of rope from my pocket and tie it around his wrists. It's a simple abjuration bond, but it should suffice for the spell. If all goes well, I should get an evocation with a fire burst element to it._ _

__As he asked, I don't cinch his arms up over his head. Instead, I turn him to face the wall and tie the rope through the little ring that's drilled into the wall at neck height. Once he's secured to the spot, I press against his back to pin him against the cold stone. He gives a breathy gasp as I grind against him, letting him feel my erection through my trousers. “Comfortable?” I ask._ _

__“Very,” he purrs._ _

__I kiss his cheek, and in a moment of self indulgence, I pull the tie of out his hair, letting it fall loose. I'll be picking wax out of it later, but I don't care. I like how he looks with it down, and I'm the caster here, so I get to do what I like, right? I take a small step back and pull his hips away from the wall. My hands glide over his skin before I reach around and tease his half-hard cock._ _

__Olbric moans and pushes back against me, angling his hips out in invitation. I chuckle and continue to stroke him until he’s fully hard. Only then do I reach into my pocket and slide four focuses down his length. Olbric gasps as they spark, and I'm pleased that he's riled up enough to start charging them already._ _

__“So eager,” I tease._ _

__“It’s been some time since I’ve done wax,” he says. “It’s better now than I remember.”_ _

__I chuckle and nip a clean spot on his shoulder before I step back to appreciate the view. The black and white wax makes a pretty pattern over his skin. “Godsdamn but you're beautiful," I murmur._ _

__He rests his cheek against the stone and smiles at me over his shoulder. His hair has gotten longer, hanging nearly halfway down his back now. With it loose, it softens all of his angles. His limbs look slender, the curve of his ass pronounced. With his back to me, he could almost be a woman._ _

__Heat shoots straight to my cock, but I shake off my distraction. I go back to the cabinet to grab Olbric’s favorite flogger. It’s heavy, with thick leather tresses that thud rather than sting. It should be good for getting the wax off of him and even better on the sensitive skin underneath. I let the tresses drag down his back and watch him shiver as his hands clench under the ropes._ _

__I pull his hair over his shoulder before I press a kiss against his neck. My heart beats heavy in my chest. This is the part that scares me, but it’s like he reads my mind. He opens his eyes and smiles at me over his shoulder. “You won’t hurt me. I mean - you will, but I promise I’ll forgive you.”_ _

__I kiss his neck again before I take a couple steps back. I test the weight of the flogger and draw in a breath. It feels heavy as I lift it up and bring it down on Olbric’s back. He gasps as wax cracks and flakes off of him. It feels like too much, too hard so when I bring it down again, I'm a little gentler._ _

__“Unclench your jaw, Dom,” Alix says, sounding a little amused. “It’s supposed to be fun for you, too.”_ _

__I give a small laugh and roll my shoulders, opening my mouth to stretch my jaw out. I’m probably grimacing like I’m the one being beat. Then I hear Alix behind me. “Just relax,” he says. “I get it - you’re an empathetic person. Hurting someone you care about doesn’t exactly come natural, but I promise that you’re not going to hurt him in a way he doesn’t love.”_ _

__I draw in a deep breath. “Right.”_ _

__Alix pats my shoulder. “Try it again.”_ _

__He steps back, and I draw in one more breath. I crack the flogger down hard. Olbric throws his head back with a shout of bliss as more wax chips off. “Harder,” Alix says, and I bring it down again. “C’mon Dom, I know you got more in you than that.” I swear and bring it down again, and Olbric’s shout sends chills through me._ _

__“There,” Alix says. “Keep it at that level.”_ _

__“Fucking hell, I feel like I’m about to flay him.”_ _

__“You’re not,” Olbric says breathlessly. _“Fuck_ Dom, don’t stop now. Please.”_ _

__That quiet plea sends a thrill through me. It’s encouraging, and I hold onto that feeling as I crack the flogger down again with the same intensity. Olbric arches with a cry, squirming as the tresses lash over his sensitive skin. I do it again, and it feels a little better._ _

__More wax comes off, and I aim for what remains. I crack the tresses against his ass, taking off the layer of wax to expose the sensitive, reddened flesh underneath. I redden it a little more before I move onto his thighs, which makes him yelp in a very different way._ _

__After a minute, I realize that I’m not afraid of hurting him anymore. Every crack of the flogger proves just how right Alix is - Olbric _loves_ it. He squirms and shouts with every lash, hips jerking against the wall before pushing back out again, presenting himself for more. _ _

__I oblige and bring the tresses down again and again, until only a few stubborn flecks of wax remain on his reddened skin. The sight of him makes my cock throb, a thrill rushing through me with every shout of pain and pleasure. I go until my arm gets tired, until Olbric’s shouts turn to little whimpers._ _

__When I finally drop the flogger, I’m panting. Olbric sags against the wall, limp in the ropes. His breathing is low and deep, almost meditative, but when I press myself against his abused back, he arches against me with a moan. I see his glazed eyes focus on me over his shoulder, and it sends a jolt of satisfaction through me._ _

__“Are you alright?” I ask._ _

__Olbric groans appreciatively and grinds back against my crotch. “Peachy.” The hazy pleasure in his voice makes my cock ache with want. I grab the mounds of his ass and am rewarded with a little hiss of anticipation as I spread him. His skin is hot to the touch, and I flake away a wayward piece of wax as I admire my handiwork._ _

__He’s trembling with want, and I can’t stop a quiet groan. _This_ is the part I like. I _like_ seeing how heated up I’ve gotten him. I like seeing his need, his desperation, and I like knowing that _I’m_ the only one who can satisfy him._ _

__I slick my fingers with the lotion from my pocket before I spear him, driving my digits deep. Olbric shouts and arches under me before he cants his hips back, spreading his legs further. I push another finger into him and am rewarded with a deep, rattling moan as I stretch him. His trembling gets worse, and he cries out as I scrape my teeth against the sensitive skin over his shoulder blade._ _

__I twist my fingers inside of him, making his hips buck. “Dom please!” he gasps. Hearing him beg sends a thrill of excitement through me. It's heady, intoxicating to hear how well I've worked him to reduce him to begging. I reach around with my free hand and grab his cock, feeling the focuses spark as he shouts again, jerking back against me. His cock is already leaking, hard and straining under the rings._ _

__“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask. I twist my fingers again, wringing another gasp out of him._ _

__“Please Dom, please!” He spreads his legs wider, rolling his ass out towards me in offering, and fucking hell if he doesn't look inviting. I let go of his cock and slide my own out from the slit of my trousers. I keep thrusting with my fingers even as I slick my length._ _

__When I pull my fingers away, I don’t make him wait before I line myself up and push into him. I yank his hips back against me as I thrust up to meet him. His tight hole clenches around me as he cries out. At least here, I know what he likes and how much he can take._ _

__I thrust again, hard enough to force him back up against the wall. A wicked though occurs to me. I wonder if he’ll be able to finish with nothing but the rough stone and focuses stimulating his cock. Well now I aim to find out._ _

__My hand fists in his long hair, pulling his head back as I fuck him hard, snapping my hips against his reddened ass. He cries out with each thrust, urging me on with little pleas of “more” and “harder.” I oblige, fucking deep into his tight hole. I grab his shoulders to press a little harder, reach a little deeper. His wail of pleasure is like music._ _

__My climax almost catches me by surprise. I swear and bite down on his shoulder, sheathing myself deep as my cock empties. I hear the crackle of the focuses as Olbric cries out desperately. Guess the answer of him being able to cum from my cock alone is a no, but I'm not about to leave him unsatisfied after all he's taken from me._ _

__I yank his hips back and reach around to stroke his length. It only takes a few strong pumps to finish him off, and I feel the focuses spark again as he shouts his pleasure. His hips rock against my hand as I milk him for every last drop. When he finishes, he slumps in the ropes, the tension of release fading to a boneless contentment as I pepper kisses over his back and shoulders._ _

__I pull out of him with a groan, hearing his quiet little whimper echo me. I step back and tuck my cock away as Olbric gives me a hazy grin over his shoulder. My fingers forget what they're doing with my laces as my eyes go wide. His back and ass practically glow from all my work. A trail of my seed leaks from him, sliding slowly down his thigh. But his smile - that look of perfect satisfaction is the single sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. “Fucking hell, Olbric.”_ _

__He groans and rests his head against the stone. “Fucking hell yourself,” he murmurs. “Collaring did you good, Dom. That was _incredible.”__ _

__I’m grinning like an idiot as I start to untie his ropes. Alix comes to help, and I spook like a surprised horse. I’d been so absorbed in Olbric that I had forgotten he was there. His fingers work quick, like he wants to get the ropes off of him as quick as he can._ _

__In no time, we get Olbric loose, and I steady him when I realize I’ve turned his legs to water. I guide him over to the chair just outside of the field of wax flakes, and help him sit. There’s a blanket in the basket beside the chair, and I pull it up and cover him._ _

__I make sure he’s settled, and his nose brushes my neck as I pull the focuses off his softening length. “Will you look at that,” I say in disbelief. All four of them are glowing, sparks of red and orange dancing inside the stones. And from the feel of them, they’re _strong.__ _

__Olbric chuckles and kisses my cheek as he picks one up, rolling it between his fingers. “You did it.”_ _

__“Couldn’t have without you,” I point out._ _

__“How’d it feel for you, Dom?” Alix asks._ _

__I run my hand through my hair and turn to face him. Heady. Empowering and humbling all at once. After last night, this was cathartic in a way I never expected. I was able to take control back after Virico tried to rob me of it. “Pretty fucking incredible,” I say. “Thank you for talking me through the nerves.”_ _

__Alix gives a half-shrug, his expression carefully neutral. “You just needed a little push. You did great.”_ _

__“Can confirm,” Olbric murmurs from his chair. There’s a perfect little smile on his lips. “Though I hope you’re going to clean up my casting room.”_ _

__I laugh and say, “I will, I promise.” I turn to Alix grinning like an idiot, but he’s already by the door. I hurry over to him, and reach for his arm as I say, "Wait, hold on."_ _

__He yanks his arm away as he spins to face me, his other hand clenched around his spell necklace. I freeze. For a brief second, neither of us seem to know what to do._ _

__I watch him snap out of it, fear turning to anger and frustration in the blink of an eye. He swears as he releases his spells to run a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “Watching... brought up some emotions.”_ _

__“No, don’t apologize,” I say, just as quick. “Are you alright?”_ _

__Alix looks at me, and a small smile wavers on his lips. “I’ll have to sort through them,” he admits. “But I’m fine, I promise.”_ _

__I believe him, but I still ask, “Can I touch you?”_ _

__Alix gives a small laugh. It sounds a little like gratitude. “Yes, you can.”_ _

__I close my arms around him in a tight embrace. “Thank you. Seriously. _Thank you.”__ _

__He sighs against my shoulder, and a bit of the tension leaks out of him. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs. “I’d monitor again, if you’d like.”_ _

__I pull back a bit to look at the shorter man. “You’re sure?”_ _

__“Positive," he says. "This was… good for me to watch from a safe place.”_ _

__I offer a small smile. It can't be an easy road he's on, but I'm happy to do anything I can to help him down it. “I’d like that.” I tighten my embrace for a second longer before letting him go._ _

__Alix gives a small smile as he grabs the door. “I’ll let you two talk.”_ _

__“Thank you again, Alix.”_ _

__The door closes behind him, and I turn my attention back to Olbric. He’s gotten himself nice and wrapped up, his loose hair covering one eye as he watches me. He smiles as I approach and scoots to allow me to sit beside him on the wide chair. I slide in beside him and wrap my arms around him, pressing my lips against his shoulder._ _

__For a second, we don’t have to say anything. We simply enjoy each other’s company. I’m the one who finally breaks the quiet. “Was that an acceptable level of hurting?”_ _

__Olbric chuckles and pushes the hair out of his face. “That was an exceptional level of hurting,” he says. “I feel warm all over.”_ _

__“Maybe it’ll finally help those icicles you call hands.”_ _

__“Rude.”_ _

__We find each other’s lips without thought, and I feel him smiling as he kisses me. When we part, we’re both grinning like idiots. I brush a strand of hair behind his ear and say, “Can I ask you something about your collaring?”_ _

__Olbric settles in comfortably. “Of course.”_ _

__I stroke my fingers through his hair. “Are there any schools you don’t want me touching?”_ _

__“No corpimancy,” Olbric says, but that was a given. He’s admitted that he’s never tried corpimancy, and doesn’t seem to have any interest in changing that._ _

__“Easy. Anything else? Conjuration?”_ _

__Olbric mulls that over for a long moment. “Conjuration under some conditions.”_ _

__“Conditions like?”_ _

__“No long-term. A few hours at most. And I get to keep a copy of the key, just in case.”_ _

__“Noted.” I feel a little thrill of excitement that he’s willing to try it. I’d have thought that would be a hard limit, but I’m happy to be proven wrong. Conjuration has become a favorite of mine, though I sure wouldn’t mind putting a cage on someone else for once._ _

__“Is there anything in particular you want out of collaring?” I ask._ _

__Olbric seems like he’s thought about this a lot. “I know myself well enough to know that I’m not going to be the obedient, demure kind of conduit,” he admits. “I know I’m going to be a challenge.”_ _

__“A challenge?” I repeat, though I can’t help but admit that I like where this is going._ _

__“This is so silly,” Olbric admits and rubs his cheek. “In Cairish, we have these fast little desert cats called nameru that live in the hills by my home. Some of the wealthy families would catch them and keep them as pets. They’re notoriously hard to tame, so of course my father _had_ to have one,” he says and rolls his eyes._ _

__“I watched him try and fail time and time again to gentle this creature, but that cat remained stubborn and hostile until the day I snuck it out and set it free.” His grin turns a little shy as he says, “I always felt bad for the poor thing, but at the same time, I’ve always sort of… liked the idea of it. Of being tamed.”_ _

__I shiver at that and carefully pull on a piece of wax that’s tangled in his hair. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, even as mine spins with possibilities. Seeing Olbric tonight gave me some ideas, so I ask, “How would you feel about me buying you some clothes?”_ _

__Olbric raises an eyebrow and looks at me curiously. “I think I’d like that,” he says, but I can hear the unasked question._ _

__My grin comes out crooked. “This is just the start of an idea,” I admit. “I’ll have to think on it a little more.”_ _

__Olbric chuckles. “You know, I’m not usually a patient person,” he says. “But I’ll do my best for you.”_ _

__I smile and pull him into a gentle kiss. “I’ll make sure it’s worth the wait.”_ _


	12. Enchantment Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai humiliates himself and Ambra with enchantment practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday all! I hope that as we enter the holiday season, y'all are staying safe and sane. 2020 has been a really hard year for a lot of people financially, mentally and personally. I've been lucky enough to stay employed and work from home during the chaos, so I wanted to give back this holiday season. I'm planning on donating to one of three excellent charities that I think the Crux would be proud to support. I'm planning on matching donations up to $200, so if you want to see details of how you can get involved (and get the next 4 chapters of Mastery early) check out my pinned tweet @AletheaFaust! 
> 
> Thank you all for your kind comments and feedback! I hope you enjoy!

Over the next week, Olbric and I talk more about his collaring, and my idea starts to take on a little more detail in my head. The stipend the Crux provides is nothing to sneeze at, but I sure hope I’ve saved enough to cover what I want to do. I won’t know for sure until I can find someone who can actually make what I’ve got in mind. 

In the meantime, I keep up with Arlon’s casting challenge for me. I ask Alix to monitor another attempt at abjuration with Galiva, and he seems happy to agree. The spell is more or less a repeat of the suspension bind I tried to do with her a couple weeks ago. Alix has nothing to say about my ropes or knots, but he gives me some good tips to on how to stay in a headspace while I’m casting.

“You have a habit of checking and re-checking your rig instead of actually enjoying your conduit,” Alix points out. “Your ropes are perfect, so stop worrying about them. You spent nearly an hour getting her set up, so reward yourself. Explore her, play with her. Stay as focused on her as she is on you.”

After that, it gets easier to relax, and Galiva easily holds my attention. I do as Alix suggested and take my time with her. She writhes, helpless and willing as I tease her senseless with my mouth and fingers and teeth.

Galiva is usually so composed, so in control, yet she’s anything but as she begs me to finish. She trembles in my ropes, body taught with need. Her nipples are swollen to little pebbles, her slit dripping. The desperate quaver of of need in her voice sends a thrill through me, but I tease her a little while longer before I finally let her have it.

We get five charged focuses out of the spell, and Galiva’s so thrilled at the end of it that she doesn’t let me get her down for another half an hour.

The next spell I attempt is enchantment with Ambra. It’s a school that rests solidly out of my comfort. I’ve never been much of a talker, and I’ve done enough enchantment to know how big a part it plays. But that was Arlon's challenge to me, and besides, it’s one I’ll need to get better at if I want to make my idea for Olbric work. 

"How do you even know what to say?” I ask Alix in frustration as we head away from his room.

“It depends on your conduit,” Alix says. “Humiliation can come from a lot of places. Internalized insecurities or shame, cultural expectations we’re not meeting, or even just falling short of our own expectations."

I think back to what’s been effective for me, and something clicks. "Fucking hell - all of mine comes from Airedale." Or my da, but I keep that to myself.

"Yeah? How so?"

"It's a pretty prudish town," I say. "When I first got here, I was embarrassed to be in the _baths_ with another person. I thought I had shaken most of it until Arlon stripped me naked in the mess hall and started calling me his fuckboy."

Alix chuckles and says, "Rest assured, shame around sex and sexuality are by no means uncommon. And what we do here is probably enough to make someone from your hometown faint. We internalize that mindset whether we want to or not. Enchantment just plays on our internalized shame and turns it into something productive. Personally, I find it pretty cathartic. Gives me a chance to feel that shame and work through it in a safe place without judgment."

"Sure," I say and run my hand through my hair, "but that still doesn't help me know what to say."

Once we’re inside Ambra’s casting room in the enchantment tower, I talk through what I want to do. A simple command spell - lower caliber, but that’s about all I feel comfortable with. It helps that Ambra seems excited about it. After getting some more input from her and Alix, I feel a little more prepared. All I have to do is give orders, and Ambra will obey them. 

“Go ahead and kneel,” I say.

Alix chuckles. “Not direct enough. Give an order, not a request,” he says. 

“Fucking hell, right.” The whole godsdamned point of the spell. Ambra grins and twirls a lock of blond hair around her finger as she watches me, waiting. I take a breath as I straighten my back. 

“Kneel,” I order.

Ambra obeys, and sinks elegantly to her knees. I make a slow loop around her, taking a second to admire her. She’s stunning. Shorter and far curvier than Galiva, with full breasts and wide hips that she isn’t afraid to sway as she settles comfortably against the pillow on the floor. 

She’s still dressed in a flowing skirt and blouse with long, loose sleeves. It covers far too much of her. “Take your shirt off.” 

Ambra smirks up at me as she lifts the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head. Her breasts hang large and heavy without a corset to keep them contained. Her long blond hair flows over her shoulders, covering them entirely too much.

“Pull your hair back,” I say. Ambra obeys and pulls her hair over her shoulder to expose her impressive bust. I look down at her and reach out to pinch her left nipple, tugging up gently to feel the weight of her breast. She looks up at me, a grin lifting the corner of her full lips. That smile is going to be distracting. 

“Eyes down,” I order, and she lowers her gaze demurely.

I grin as I come to stand in front of her. “Slip your skirt off,” I say. 

She unties the waist of her skirt before letting it slide down her ample hips and ass. She scoots until she can pull it fully off and tosses it aside, and even that she makes look elegant. I’m glad to see that she’s worn nothing underneath. 

“Spread your legs.” Even with her head down, I see her bite her bottom lip as she scoots her knees apart. “Wider.” She exposes the pink little lips between her legs, and I can’t help but notice she keeps shaved. 

“Smooth as a piglet,” I say before I can think not to. I hate it the second it leaves my mouth.

“Oh my gods, Dominai,” Ambra snorts, slapping a hand over her mouth as she tries not to laugh. She fails, and I can’t help but laugh with her even as I flush red to the tips of my ears. 

“I’m trying!” I say even as I try to rub the heat from my face.

“No - no, I’m sorry, that’s just… not one I’ve heard before,” she says and wipes a tear from her eye. She struggles for a second longer to get herself under control, but in that infectious way laughter spreads, Alix gets it next. I hear him try to stifle himself, and in that moment, I could probably generate a spell all on my own.

“Not helpful!” 

“I’m sorry - sorry,” Alix says and wipes the smile from his face. Ambra takes a steadying breath and grins as she looks down again. I try to do the same and run a hand through my hair. Can’t take it back now, so may as well run with it, right?

“Get on all fours,” I say and put my boot between her shoulder blades to push her there. “No laughing. Piglets only squeal.” She lets out another little giggle, but I reach between her legs and grab her pussy roughly. It gets a gasp out of her as she jerks under my hand. I put my weight into my boot and force her chest against the ground.

“Keep your ass up,” I order before I pull my boot away. She doesn’t move as I circle behind her. With her ass up and knees spread, her pink little slit is exposed. “Spread your cheeks, piglet.”

Ambra keeps her face against the pillow, but reaches back to grab the mounds of her ass. She spreads them wide to let me see her little pucker of flesh. And I have to admit - piglet’s a fine descriptor. She’s all cream and pink now, but I wonder how dirty I can get her.

I put my hand on the small of her back before I plunge a finger into her, testing her. A quiet whimper escapes her even as she shifts back just a little to take more of my finger. She’s already wet, and it’s only then I realize how quiet she’s gotten as she waits for my next order.

I shake off the rest of my embarrassment. Even if it started as a gaff, it’s apparently doing something to her. And seeing her spread wide is _definitely_ doing something to me.

“Fuck your slit,” I order. “One finger only.”

That gets another quiet moan out of her, but she does as told, sliding one finger through her wet folds. She thrusts slow, and I shiver as I start to hear the wet sound it makes in the quiet room. “Good. Don’t stop.”

I leave her to it and go to the cabinet to grab a sizable leather phallus. I come back and knee by her head to see her eyes closed in concentration. Her cheeks are flushed pink, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

“Look here, piglet.” She opens her eyes, and I’m glad to see a little bit of a glaze behind them. I hold the phallus out to her. “Suck.”

She opens her mouth, and I slide it between her willing lips. I thrust shallow at first, letting her get used to it before I slide it deep. She doesn’t balk, but she does clench her eyes shut in concentration as I tease her throat with it.

“You’re hungry for that cock, aren’t you piglet?” She doesn’t answer, but I don’t expect one. I gag her on the phallus for a second longer before I pull it away. “Hands on the ground by your head.”

Ambra pulls her finger out of her cunt with a groan of disappointment, but I don’t make her wait long. I slide the wet phallus into her inviting slit. She gasps, hands clenching as she rolls her hips a little. I fuck her with it for a second longer before I slide it deep and leave it there.

“Spread your ass again.” She moans but does as ordered, and I reach into my pocket to grab the glass plug that Olbric loaned me. I slick it well before I tease her ass with it. Ambra gasps at the initial cold shock before she relaxes. 

I don’t rush her. I push the tip into her, twisting and tilting it before I inch it deeper. Every time I thrust it in a little further, the phallus tries to inch out. I don’t let it get too far before I use my palm to nudge it back in. 

Ambra whimpers as I tease her, toying with both of her holes in turn. Once her ass has relaxed, I slide the plug in as I push the phallus deep. I'm rewarded with her sharp gasp as they both settle into place.

“Good piglet,” I say before I press the base of the glass plug. She yelps in surprise as the focus sealed inside of it comes to life. I know how good those twisting marbles feel, and she waggles her hips like she’s trying to follow them. 

“Close your legs and kneel up.”

Ambra moans, but does as told. She kneels, ass resting against her ankles to keep the phallus and plug seated deep. I run a hand over her head, dragging my fingers through her hair and am rewarded with a little shiver. “Not laughing now, huh?” I lean down to press a kiss against her neck.

Ambra gives a breathy little laugh. “Nope.”

I slap one of her heavy tits and am rewarded with a surprised squeal. “Piglets don’t talk.”

She gives a little whimper of pleasure, that makes my breath hitch. It’s a thrill to realize she’s eating this up. It makes me wonder how far I can push it with her. I give her breast one more squeeze before I cross to the other side of the room and take a seat in the chair. She watches me with heavily lidded eyes, though I see her arch a little as the plug hits a good spot inside of her. 

I grin and cross my ankle over my knee. “Come here.” She moves to get up, but I tsk. “Piglets don’t walk, either.”

Her face flushes red. I grin as she gets to her knees and crawls across the stone floor towards me. Her heavy breasts sway with every step, and I have to admit that she makes a pretty picture. Her bottom lip is in between her teeth as she tries to bite back a moan. 

“Don’t let that phallus fall out,” I warn, and she takes her next step much more carefully. Even so, it’s almost out by the time she gets to me. I motion her closer, and she crawls to my feet. 

“Head down, ass up,” I order. She rests her cheek against my shoe, and I lean forward to grab the base of the phallus. I twist it before I start to fuck her with it, wringing a shout out of her as I thrust it deep.

She grabs the leg of my trousers, and I can’t stop a shiver as I watch her squirm, her face flushed with pleasure. “Do you like wallowing on the ground, piglet?” I ask. She wails as she nods and nuzzles my leg. 

“You know, the pigs in Airedale would eat anything you gave them,” I say. “So lets see how you like the taste of my boots. Lick them.”

Ambra shudders, a low moan rattling out of her, and for a second, I’m afraid I’ve pushed her too far. But then she kisses the top of my boot before running her tongue over the smooth leather. The sight of her makes my mouth go dry, and for a second, I forget I’m still holding the phallus. 

Fucking _hell._

She cleans my boot thoroughly, tongue licking it to a shine before she moves onto the other. It’s only after she finishes cleaning them both that I snap out of it. I pull the phallus out of her and toss it aside. “Up, piglet,” I say and pat my lap, even as I slide my cock from my trousers. It gets another moan out of her, but she does as told and straddles me. I grab the plug, which stills under my touch before I pull it from her as well.

She lets out a little whimper of disappointment. “Hush piglet,” I say before I reach into my pocket and pull out the string of uncharged focuses. I slide the marbles into her one at a time until all five are seated in her ass. She rests her head against my shoulder, shuddering as each ball slides in. 

This has gotten me more heated than I could have imagined, but I don't want to end it quite yet. I grab Ambra's long blond hair and pull her head back to expose her throat. I nip along the tender skin before I murmur, "Ride my cock, piglet."

Ambra nearly thanks me before she remembers she's not supposed to talk. Instead, she bites her lip as she lines her slit up with the head of my cock. She sinks onto me, and I groan as the tight heat of her envelopes me. 

Her hands rest on my shoulders, using me for leverage as she fucks herself on my length. I lean back and simply enjoy it, my hands resting lightly on her hips. "Speed up, piglet," I order.

Ambra moans but obeys, thrusting down with renewed vigor. She bounces on my lap, her slick cunt accepting my length with every thrust. I can't keep myself still any longer as I grab her hips and meet her downward thrust. She cries out, arching as I start to fuck her hard, savoring the wet heat of her. Her breasts are at the perfect level, and I draw one perky nipple into my mouth and suck.

She arches her chest out towards me, all but smothering me in her ample bosom. I nip gently at her pink nipple before doing the same to the other, making a matching pair. “Do you like that, piglet?” 

She nods with a whimper, only to shout as I give a particularly hard thrust. I pant even as I feel my orgasm building. Ambra's legs are having a hard time keeping a rhythm, and she cries out against my neck as I feel her tense against me.

"Don't you dare cum, piglet," I growl. She shouts against my neck, clutching my shoulders hard. I ramp up faster, thrusting up to meet her, though I’m not going to last much longer, either. 

My hand fists in her hair as I pull her head back. “Squeal, piglet.”

Ambra screams as she cums, hips stalling as she spasms around me. I grab the string of focuses and pull, turning her shout into a squeal of pleasure. I thrust into her rippling heat once more before my own end crashes through me. I moan deep as I hold her flush against my lap, rolling my hips as my orgasm courses out of me. The last glowing focus pulls free, and I groan as Ambra slumps bonelessly against me. 

I wrap my arms around her and can’t stop a small laugh. “Godsdamn, I did make you squeal.”

#

Alix joins us when I take Ambra down to the baths. The three of us go to my favorite pool in the back. I give Ambra the same aftercare routine that I do for evocation, though other than a couple of scrapes on her knees from the stone, there’s little to tend to. Instead, I just bathe the floor dirt off of her while Alix reclines comfortably in the pool with us.

“That was a clever turnabout you did,” Alix says. “Getting your conduit into a headspace for enchantment can be difficult - especially when you start out laughing your ass off. But you managed to turn it into something effective.”

“Very effective,” Ambra groans as I massage soap into her hair.

I chuckle and lean Ambra back to wash the soap out, stroking my fingers through her golden blond locks gently. “I was afraid I’d pushed it a little too far,” I admit.

Ambra opens her eyes and grins up at me. “Dom, Arlon tied me up in the toilet and told everyone to use me as a urinal for my enchantment mastery. I’d let you know if it was too much.”

I flush red to the tips of my ears and mutter a faint, “Oh.”

Alix chuckles and says, “You have a whole world to delve into with mastery level spells. But for where you’re at, today was a good start. You should be proud.”

My blush doesn’t go away, but I can’t stop a grin. “Thanks.” I grab the cleaned string of focuses from the lip of the pool and string two of them onto Ambra’s necklace before doing the same to mine, saving the odd focus out to add to the Crux’s supply. 

“So… I have an idea for an enchantment spell I want to try with Olbric,” I say. “But I wanted to get your opinions on it.”

I tell them what I’m planning, and Ambra gives an excited little squeal. “I have some stuff you can use,” she says. “There’s also a seamstress in town who can make something for you. I’ll warn you though. She’s not cheap.”

I chuckle at her eagerness, though I sure do like the idea of having something made. The more I think about it, the harder it gets to settle on just one idea. “When you go to cast it, let me know if you want me to monitor,” Alix says with a wink. “You’re a fun caster to watch.”

“You don’t have to just watch,” I point out. “I’d be happy to cast with you too, if you want.” 

I’m immediately afraid I’ve said something wrong. After all he’s been through, the last thing I want is to put pressure on the wizard. Alix gives me an appraising look before he lets out a small sigh, sinking further into the pool. 

“Maybe,” he says, and it’s the kind of maybe that doesn’t sound like a no, either.


	13. High Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai joins some friends for tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday all! This may be one of my favorite chapters of this book because I got to turn magical theory into dirty talk :P I hope you enjoy!

I decide to take the next day off to go into town. That morning, I fill my purse with every coin I've saved from my stipend before I head down to breakfast. To my surprise, Galiva’s already up as well, getting ready for the morning shift at the clinic. Once we’ve eaten, we head out together. 

On the way, I tell her the plan for the enchantment spell I want to cast with Olbric. After talking with Ambra and Alix, it's starting to take a more solid shape. And I’m getting more and more excited about it.

"Olbric is going to shit," she says and beams at me. 

"Do you think he'll like it?" We've talked more about what he wants from his collaring, and I’m hoping my idea hits enough notes that he’ll enjoy it.

"He's going to love it," Galiva promises. "Once it's ready, let me know. I'll be happy to help."

"You're the best, Gal."

The seamstress Ambra recommended is a kind older woman who doesn't bat an eye when I tell her what I want made. "I have the fabric on hand, so it should only take a couple of weeks. I can handle the arrangements with the jeweler as well, if you’d like."

I would like that very much, and I leave the shop with an empty purse and a smile I can't get rid of. It's only when I'm halfway out of the bustling market that I realize the nerves that normally follow me into the city are absent. It's a busy day, but I've managed to let the bustle pass by me instead of overwhelming me like it normally does. It feels like an accomplishment in and of itself, and my smile lasts the whole trip back to the Crux.

The next day is my casting date with Cancassi, and I find them waiting for me at the stairs to the baths. “Even though Arlon’s given me a room with my own bath, I enjoy our morning talks,” they say, a little shyly.

The declaration fills me with warmth, and I sweep them up and carry them down the stairs. I help Cancassi into the pool and smile as they settle against my chest. 

“For our casting date today, would you be willing to conduit for another mastery level spell? Olbric is getting closer to petitioning for his transmutation mastery, but there’s still a fundamental principle of the school he’s having a hard time with,” Cancassi says. “I think I have a spell in mind that will make it clear to him.”

“Gods, yes please,” I say. As much as I’ve enjoyed casting this week, I’m more than ready to conduit again.

“It will be in front of a small audience,” Cancassi warns.

A thrill of excitement settles in my gut. “All the more fun, right? But at the beginning of the week, I thought you said you wanted to do enchantment with me?”

Cancassi’s grin is sly. “We’ll see how the spell turns out. It could go either way.”

That gets me curious, but Cancassi and I agree to keep the rest a surprise. It’s after lunch when they come to get me and take me to the first floor. I’m expecting us to go to one of the first floor casting rooms, but instead, they lead me to the library.

It’s on the main floor of the Crux, just a few doors down from Arlon’s office. It stretches up two full stories into the magiline tower, and is full of tall shelves, heavy with books. Since it’s too cold to enjoy the courtyards, folks have chosen the cozy little alcoves tucked back away from the books as their relaxing spot during their down time. I hear quiet talk and laughter as we pass by.

Cancassi takes me to one of the alcoves in the back, hollowed into the magiline wall. Olbric is waiting for us, but he’s not alone. Galiva’s reading a book while Margeurite and Alix talk quietly. I’m definitely not opposed to this audience, and I shiver as Alix meets my gaze with a smirk.

“This looks like a setup,” I say with a grin.

Cancassi chuckles. “It’s only enchantment if you make it,” they tease.

The alcove is lit by another cracking fire, safely away from any books. A thick woven rug covers the floor while comfortable chairs and couches are set about in a small circle. Someone’s even brought a tray with a tea kettle and cups. It’s laid out on the small end table in the center of the alcove along with a few little plates of snacks. “We’re having tea?”

Cancassi beams. “We’re having tea.”

I chuckle and rub my face. Olbric grins at me from his seat even as Galiva shuts her book and leans back to watch. “Alright,” I say. “What do you want me to do?”

“Disrobe, please.” Cancassi holds out an arm for me to drape my things over, and I do as asked. I slip my trousers and underthings off last and am glad for the fire keeping the alcove warm.

“On all fours, please,” Cancassi says and points to the comfortable rug in front of the fire.

I glance at the assembled group curiously. None of them have said a word to me except Cancassi, and I get the idea it’s intentional. I try to puzzle out what spell Cancassi’s trying to cast even as I sink to my hands and knees.

The warmth of the fire is like a gentle hand against my skin, and I let out a contented sigh. The Crux is so drafty, but it’s down right cozy in the little alcove. I hear the gentle clank of the tea tray before cold metal rests against my back. I don’t quite stop a flinch of surprise, and the tray clatters. 

“Careful,” Cancassi says. “Tables are supposed to be stable.”

I give a small laugh, which makes the tray shake again. “Oh is that what I am?” I shift and flatten my back out as best as I can to give the tray a good place to rest. The plates of snacks follow soon after, resting against my shoulders and hips.

“They’re also not supposed to talk,” Cancassi says. I blink as a ball gag is dangled in front of me. I shiver and open my mouth to let them settle it in before they tighten the strap around the back of my head. I can just barely get my teeth around it, and it stretches my jaw wide. A silk blindfold is tied over my eyes next, and I can’t stop a quiet groan.

Cancassi circles around me, and I feel something cold brush my ass. A slick focus is pressed into me, and it takes all my concentration to stay still. I want to push back, spread my legs a little further, but fear of toppling the tray keeps me still. A string of five more focuses follow the first, leaving me feeling full. I moan, and a trail of spit makes its way out from around the gag.

The others seem content to ignore me as Cancassi gets me settled. Their conversation continues like I never even interrupted it. Cancassi sits with a sigh before I feel weight lifted off my back. There’s the sound of pouring tea, and I catch a whiff of something light and herbal.

“How’s the clinic been, Gal?” Olbric asks, and there’s a clink of glassware as the tea is handed out.

“Tiring,” Galiva says. “I don’t know how Garrett does it. He’s employed some incredible nurses, but it’s just him and two non-magical physicians that manage the place. I think we’ll all be relieved when he’s back.”

“He has been out east, right? When is he supposed to be back?” Margeurite asks. 

“Any day now, thank gods,” Galiva says. “It’s been enlightening, but I’m ready for a break. Today's the first full day off I've had in weeks.”

“How many holes you got in you?” Olbric teases.

Galiva laughs. “None of your business!”

Someone’s foot brushes up between my legs. I flinch in surprise, and the tray clatters. The touch is brief, but lingers just long enough that I know it was intentional. I settle again and let out a long breath, but the conversation doesn’t so much as pause.

“What about you, Olbric?” Alix asks. “Do you think you’re close to petitioning?” 

Olbric groans. “Gods, I don’t know. Transmutation is more finicky than I thought when I went into it.”

“How so?”

“Half the time, I end up with a half-crafted and useless enchantment spell,” Olbric says. “Which Cancassi said they were going to help with today, though this has been too distracting to be educational.”

“In time,” Cancassi says, and I hear the amusement in their voice. “Enjoy your tea first.”

“Did the kitchens do all this?” Margeurite asks.

“They were kind enough to provide the food and tea set,” Cancassi says, “But the tea I brought from home.”

“It’s lovely,” Margeurite says, and I’m a little bit jealous. Apparently tables don’t get to try Cancassi’s fancy tea. Even though the rug is soft, my knees are already starting to hurt, and the strain of holding my back straight is making my stomach muscles ache. I finally have to shift my hands, and though I do my best to be careful, the tray rattles before I hear something crash as it falls over. 

“Ah, there it is. He lasted longer than I expected,” Cancassi says, and I hear them set their cup down. They get to their feet with a groan. “Now, since our table is getting tired, there are a couple of things we can do. We could admonish or punish our table into shaping up.” I flush hot red at that. “Or, we can treat our table like a table, and fix the problem ourselves.”

The tray is lifted off my back, and I hear something dragged across the floor before Cancassi pulls me from my kneel. It’s brief, and I’m quickly bent over the actual table. It’s short enough that I’m kept on my knees, and small enough that I can fully bend over it, resting with my chest against the flat surface. Cancassi straps my wrists to the wooden legs with small leather belts before doing the same to my thighs. One final strap holds my chest flat against the wooden top, immobilizing me. 

The focuses inside of me spark as they start to charge, and I jerk in surprise. I moan and feel spit drip from my forced-open mouth. It's a relief to sink against the table and let my head hang. At least I don’t have to worry about keeping myself up anymore. 

“One method will get you an enchantment spell, while the other will get you transmutation,” Cancassi says. The tray is settled on my back once more, and I groan quietly. Cancassi sits with a sigh, and I feel them lift up their cup from the tray. “And the reason for that has to do with your conduit’s headspace.”

A hand brushes over my ass and gives the string of focuses a little tug, though not enough to pull one out. I shiver as a quiet whimper escapes from around the gag. “We all know the type of conduit that Dominai is,” Cancassi continues. “Sometimes, you have to do a little work with a conduit to get them into the swing of a spell, but not so much with Dom. He falls into a headspace quickly, and he falls into it hard. So when you’re using him to cast transmutation, you as the caster have to be sure you’re putting him in the _correct_ headspace. Your method of casting is what determines the type of headspace he falls into, and therefore, the manner of spell you both create.”

Talking about me like I’m a case study is proving pretty damn effective, too. I groan quietly and test the straps, but Cancassi’s trapped me good. Even though no one’s so much as touched it, my cock is already hard, hanging just off the edge of the table. 

“Both enchantment and transmutation require you to objectify your conduit to an extent,” Cancassi says. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Alix, but enchantment usually skews towards sexual objectification, whereas transmutation involves taking your conduit and actually _using_ them as an object. Enchantment maintains just enough of the conduit’s personhood to sexualize, whereas transmutation strips them of it entirely.”

“I’d say that’s a correct assessment,” Alix says.

Boots rest against my shoulders, and I shiver, making the tray clank gently. While this is more comfortable than just being made to kneel, the straps and Cancassi’s lecture are doing nothing to help keep my arousal under control. And if I truly am just a table for today, I doubt I’ll get an orgasm from this spell. The thought wrings a tormented moan out of me, and I feel the focuses spark again. They seem to be charging just fine as they are. 

Olbric hums thoughtfully, and it must be his foot that comes up to rest against my ass. “So what you’re saying is I’m mixing casting methods.”

“Exactly,” Cancassi says. 

“Damn, I didn’t even realize it.”

Cancassi chuckles. “Neither did I until the last spell we tried,” they admit. “With how absorbed I’ve been studying enchantment, I thought I was skewing to that headspace automatically. Then I realized you weren’t helping me by praising my cock like you were.”

“Well excuse me for being polite,” Olbric shoots back, and I can’t stop a snort of a laugh that Galiva and Alix echo. 

“It’s a hard habit to break,” Alix says. “I got my enchantment mastery first, so when I started trying for transmutation, I was making the same mistake. It’s a subtle difference between enchantment and transmutation, but it can have a noticeable effect on your conduit and your spells.”

“God, I don’t have my mastery in either, and I’m still having the problem,” Olbric mutters. 

“You sure do like talking to your conduits,” Galiva points out. “I was honestly a little surprised when you said you were going to try for transmutation over enchantment.”

“Well sure, _casting_ enchantment is no problem,” Olbric says. “Conduiting is the hard part. Maybe I’m just shameless. Nothing phases me.”

Alix chuckles. “I doubt that,” he says, and if I wasn’t gagged, I’d grin. That’s a theory I’m looking forward to testing.

“But we’ve been pretty clear with our casting for this spell, so we’ll just have to see what comes of it,” Cancassi says brightly. 

Someone tugs at the string of focuses, and I gasp in surprise. It’s only then I realize that one of the focuses in me is charged. It starts to buzz, and I can’t stop a miserable little groan. It’s a teasing sensation, and nowhere near strong enough to do anything but torment me.

I squirm, and the tray shifts dangerously. Cancassi just tsks before they tighten the strap around my chest and add two more, one over my shoulders and one over my lower back. I’m pressed flat against the table, so tight that drawing in a full breath is a challenge. 

Olbric chuckles. “This is a very unstable table, Cass,” he teases.

I can hear the grin in Cancassi’s voice as they say, “Don’t worry. He’ll accept his position soon enough.”

I whimper around my gag but am ignored as the conversation meanders to other things. Margeurite gives an update on the search for Diran, which I can only half pay attention to in my current state. I gather that her, Galiva and Allisande are working on targeting Isa, and have had some luck, though not enough to pinpoint her location yet.

“It feels like we’re getting closer though,” Galiva says. “The last thing I Saw proved that her and Diran are still working together.”

That snaps through my haze. I hadn’t realized we’d gotten Sight of him. None of my attempts had gotten anything more than a glimpse of his face or a snippet of his voice, though it was always too garbled to make out anything he said.

“Your focus has gotten so much better,” Margeurite says.

I can hear how pleased Galiva sounds when she says, “Thank you.”

The buzzing focus makes it hard to concentrate, and for some time I lose track of the conversation entirely. Tea is refreshed, snacks are finished, and the contents of the tray quietly rattle as I tremble helplessly. I’m not sure how long I’m there, but it takes me a second to realize that the conversation has turned back to me.

“-seems like our table has finally calmed down,” Olbric says.

Cancassi chuckles before I feel their long fingers stroke through my hair and pull my head up. “He’s fallen into it quite nicely,” they say. “I think after all this, we’ve gotten a good stabilizing spell out of him.”

“Do you think we should finish it?” Olbric asks, and I can’t stop a shiver.

“The spell is already cast, but we could certainly help poor Dominai out,” Cancassi says.

Margeurite chuckles, and I hear her get to her feet. “We should get going. Galiva and I have another casting scheduled with Allis, so we’ll leave you all to it,” she says.

I feel Galiva’s lips against my cheek. “Thanks for the tea, Dom,” she says. 

I groan quietly as Cancassi lets my head fall again. Hands stroke down my back and ass before someone grabs the string of focuses and gives it a little tug. I can’t stop a little whimper of desire as I strain against the straps. It’s a relief just to be acknowledged after a whole afternoon of being ignored. 

And Olbric and Cancassi seem intent to lavish on the attention now. The string of focuses are pulled from me, and I can’t stop a shout, each one lighting my nerves on fire as they’re dragged out of me. “You were right, Cass,” Olbric says. “He managed to charge all of them, and we’ve barely touched him.”

“Intercourse and orgasm aren’t required for a spell to be successful,” Alix points out. “I’m living proof of that.”

“No, I know,” Olbric says. “I am just… not that wizard. I have to orgasm if I want to charge more than two.”

“We know,” Cancassi teases even as they loosen the gag from around my head before lifting the blindfold off. I moan as I stretch my jaw out. “Are you alright, Dom?”

Casting with Cancassi has a way of taking my voice away from me, so I just nod before letting my head fall back down. Olbric kisses the small of my back. “You want to stay and watch?” he asks. 

Alix chuckles and says, “Sure. Watching him conduit is as fun as watching him cast. You weren’t joking about him falling into it.”

Cancassi’s grin floats into view in front of me. They cup my cheek to get a good look at my face. “He really is wonderful to cast with. Thanks for your help today, Dom,” they say before kissing me gently. I shiver and return it, a little mewl of need escaping me. 

When they pull away, I finally find my voice and say, “Just… fucking hell, don’t leave me hanging like this.”

Cancassi chuckles and strokes my cheek. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Behind me, Olbric spreads my cheeks, and I feel the familiar prod of his cock. I strain against the straps, but I can’t even push back. It’s enough to drive me mad.

“Seems a little strange to fuck a table,” Olbric teases.

“I swear to my gods and yours, Olbric."

“To do what?” he says slyly. “Doesn’t seem like you’re in much of a position to be making threats.”

I whimper and wag my hips as much as I can. “Fucking hell Olbric, _please.”_

Olbric chuckles and says, “You know I can’t say no when you beg like that.” I feel his weight press against my back, his hands grabbing my hips before he thrusts his slicked cock into me. I shout at the rough stretch of him, and Olbric tsks. “Keep it down. We’re in the library.”

“And that is exactly why you’re having a problem casting transmutation,” Alix chuckles.

“Worth it,” Olbric groans and rolls his hips.

Cancassi lifts me up by my hair before thrusting into my mouth, gagging my retort. I whimper around them as Olbric sets a fast pace, his hand reaching down to wrap around my cock. I work my tongue over Cancassi’s length as they slide deep, and I take it without complaint. Thanks to Arlon’s conditioning, I don’t think there’s much my throat can’t handle anymore.

I lose myself between them. Being ignored for the better part of the afternoon has left me desperate. I gladly submit to the thorough fucking, and let my gratitude be known. I squirm as much as I’m able, little mewls of pleasure making their way around Cancassi’s cock as they thrust deep into my willing mouth.

Olbric’s length drags across that spot inside me with every thrust, lighting my nerves on fire in the best kind of way. Maybe it’s because I’ve been casting all week, but I feel an internal orgasm start to build. Being gagged on Cancassi’s cock doesn’t let me give a warning as a couple more deep thrusts set me off. I tense and scream around Cancassi as my orgasm rocks out of me, my cock catching up quick as I cum hard.

Cancassi swears and seats their length deep to muffle me even as they follow me into bliss. The sweet taste of their seed fills my mouth, and I swallow everything they give me as Olbric speeds up. He groans as he works his cock into me, prolonging my pleasure and wringing another scream out of me. 

I tip him over the edge, and he thrusts deep, hands grabbing my hips hard as he cums with a low moan. I feel his forehead rest against my back as he swears appreciatively. I slump, limp against the table, spent and trembling. For a second, none of us move, just basking in the afterglow. Cancassi finally slides their softening length from my mouth.

I blink just in time to see Nellie, the non-magical custodian of the library round the corner. She stops abruptly and flushes red at the sight of us, though whether it’s from anger or embarrassment I can’t say. “This is a library!” she hisses. “Be quiet or take it elsewhere!”


	14. Bad Tidings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai helps Arlon through a bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! I'm sure there's a special place in hell for people who post needleplay and sounding erotica on Christmas, but here we are. This chapter does get a little spicy, so if you want to skip the needleplay and sounding bits, the buildup is obvious, and you can tune back in at the # after. Thank you all for your kind comments and kudos on this story! I hope you have a safe and restful holiday.

Monday morning has me back in Arlon’s office, and I can tell he’s in a mood the second I walk in. And not a good one, either. 

He’s seated behind his desk, but he doesn’t even grin when he sees me. “Strip,” he orders before turning his attention back to the missives on his desk. 

I go to the corner and do as asked, but I keep an eye on him. He looks tired. There are dark shadows under his eyes as he glares at the paper in his hands through his spectacles. I stack my clothes in a neat pile on the chair in the corner before I kneel next to him. He sighs as he puts a hand on my head, silently toying with my hair for a few long minutes.

I want to ask what’s wrong, but I get the feeling he’s not open to talking yet. Besides, he hasn’t given me permission. Instead, I lean into his touch and turn my face up to kiss his palm. It at least gets a grin out of him, and I see a bit of the tension in his shoulders ease a little.

“Go fetch me breakfast,” he says. “And be sure to grab me a cup of kaffa.”

I kiss his palm again. “Yes, sir.” 

I get up and brave the cold of the halls. It’s a little warmer today than it has been. At least the sun is shining through the windows, but the draft still invites gooseflesh over my bare skin.

Even after a couple of weeks of this, folks still give me sly looks as I walk into the mess hall. It never fails to make my ears hot, but I can’t blame them for staring. I do the same when I see someone else being paraded around in the Crux.

I ate when I first got up, so I only grab enough for Arlon. I fill a bowl with hot oats before topping it with dried fruit and nuts. I forgot to ask Arlon what he puts in the bitter black kaffa to make it drinkable, so I grab a little bit of sugar and cream to bring with me. I turn to go and run straight into Thaddius, sending everything toppling. I jump back as the tray hits the floor, a little stunned. 

“Oh hell, I’m sorry Dom,” he says, though something in his tone makes me wonder how sorry he actually is. Even so, he helps me clean up, and we hand the spilled dishes apologetically over to the cooks. Once we’re finished, he even helps me gather another helping before putting it onto my tray, though when he grins at me, it’s just on the edge of malicious. “Have a good day.”

I hurry back to Arlon’s office, trying not to spill any of the tray’s contents. When I walk in, he raises an eyebrow curiously. “You were gone for some time.” I flush as I kneel and offer his breakfast to him. He takes it and grins when he sees the cream and sugar I brought. He adds a little bit of both. “What took you?”

“Ran into Thaddius, sir. It was an accident,” I say, though I’m still not so sure. We’ve cast a couple of times, but he tends to keep to his own circle with Iona and Ambra. I can’t imagine what I could have done to get on his bad side.

“Hmm, wasting food. And you’ve heard how expensive it is to run the Crux,” Arlon says, though at least there’s that playful tilt to his voice now. “I’ll remember that for later.”

“Yes, sir.” Even if it means getting my ass beat, I’m glad he at least sounds like himself. I let him enjoy his breakfast in silence and rest my cheek against his leg. He seems to appreciate it as he leans back in his chair, sipping from his mug as he idly strokes his fingers through my hair.

I wait a few long moments before I look up at him, resting my chin on his thigh and raise an eyebrow. Arlon meets my gaze and gives a huff of a laugh. “So it’s that obvious?” he asks. He sighs and adds, “It’s been a long morning.”

He still hasn’t given me permission to talk, so I just give him my attention. He takes another sip from his mug. “The execution will be public,” Arlon says. “Lucien and Jaret will drop tomorrow.” He shakes his head and sets his mug down on his desk, “I’m not sorry to see them go. I just wish Thermilious had kept his word and made it quiet. Executing wizards in the town square sets a bad precedent.”

Fuck, I hadn’t even thought of that. I’ve seen how folks outside of the Crux view the ones inside of it. No matter how bad Jaret and Lucien’s actions were, they’re still wizards, and their actions cast a shadow over all of us.

“He says he wants to send a message to Diran. Thinks this will scare him away,” Arlon says. “I personally think it’s just going to piss him off.”

His fingers drum down the side of his mug. “And if that wasn’t enough, Garrett was supposed to be back yesterday.” A thread of fear laces up my spine, and Arlon seems to feel it. He strokes my hair gently. “He’s more than capable of taking care of himself. It’s been a wet winter so far. I bet the roads are a nightmare. I’m sure I’m worrying about nothing.” He leans back in his chair with a sigh. “Seems to be all I do anymore.”

I turn my head to kiss the palm of his hand before I bow. “Speak freely.”

“Are you going to tell the Crux about the execution?” I ask. His hand stills on my head, and I continue quickly. “I-I don’t know, but if I had been in the cave, I might want to be there.”

Arlon lets out a long sigh, and his hand starts again. “No, you’re right,” he says at last. “I was hoping to protect them, but I might be denying someone’s closure. I’ll make the announcement tonight at dinner.”

He falls quiet again, losing himself in his thoughts for a few long minutes. He finishes his cup and sets it on his desk. "I'm glad you're here today," he says at last. "I need to vent some frustration."

I shiver, remembering that last time he used me to vent his frustrations, he brought me deep enough that he stopped us. We still haven’t figured out what the enchantment spell he cast does, but it's strong - whatever it is. But I trust Arlon, and I know we both learned what not to do that day. I'm not afraid of him taking me deep. "I belong to you today, sir."

For the first time today, Arlon smiles. "Damn right."

#

Arlon takes me to the dungeon and leads me to the corner opposite the bed. As the globes light up, I see the thick woven mat set into the floor that I’ve never noticed before. He takes his robe and tosses it over one of the chairs before doing the same with his shirt. He grins as he turns to look at me, and I see a bit of excitement on his face.

"Today, I want you to fight me, Dominai."

I freeze, looking at him with wide eyes. "What?" 

Arlon's grin makes my stomach twist with anticipation, and I know he's just made note of my slip in addressing him. "You heard me," he says. "I want you to try and fight me off. And know that if you fail, I will pin you down and fuck you right here against this mat." He slides his trousers and underthings off, letting them fall to the ground.

I mutter a quiet swear as I look him over. Arlon is a full head taller and has at least five stone on me, most of that muscle, but I've got speed and flexibility on my side. When Arlon made me a target a few months ago, I almost managed to squirm out of his grip when he ambushed me. Maybe facing him head on, I’ll be able to squirm away. 

"As you wish, sir," I say and grin at the challenge.

Arlon chuckles and steps onto the mat, motioning for me to do the same. We square off on opposite ends. "You cannot leave the mat. No strikes to the head or neck. Try not to aim for testicles, though accidents do happen," he says with a grin. "We go until one of us is pinned for a three count."

Ah fuck, well there goes my chances. I can probably get away from him, but there's no way I'll pin him. Nothing to do but try though. Maybe I'll get lucky. "Yes, sir."

Arlon's grin widens. "Begin."

We start off slow. Cautious. I stay on the very edge of the mat, circling opposite of him. He doesn't seem in a hurry though. Walking in step with me, his eyes never leave mine.

I’m too busy watching his face to notice his feet abruptly lunge towards me. His expression gives nothing away, and he moves like a man a decade younger as he grabs for me. I just barely avoid him, darting to the side. He grabs for me again and catches my arm, but I manage to twist out of it.

All the while he’s grinning at me, almost indulgent. Like a cat playing with a mouse. Then my foot hits cold stone. He’s backed me into a corner. 

“Every time you step off the mat, I’ll add to the punishment you’re going to get later,” he warns. 

Fuck, gotta stay on the mat then. I keep my eyes on him before I feint left and duck under his right arm as he grabs for me. I tumble across the mat and safely away from him before I pop back to my feet. I grin as I circle opposite him once more.

"Gods, I forgot how slippery you are.” 

I’m hopped up on adrenaline and roll my neck out. "Maybe you're just getting slower," I say, then realize who I've said it to.

Arlon doesn't seem mad, though his grin takes on a feral edge. "You are begging for a punishment, aren't you?"

I smirk. Ah fuck it. I’m in it deep already. "Gotta catch me first."

It lights a fire under his ass. He lunges again, going low this time, and I’m just a second too late dodging him. He catches me around my waist, and his momentum almost topples us both to the mat. I try to drop out of his grip, but he anticipates it and adjusts his hold on me. One of his legs snakes through mine, and I can't stop a yelp of surprise as he trips me.

I go down quick under him, and he straddles my waist, putting his full weight on me. He grabs my arms to go for a pin, but I fold up like a pill bug before exploding up with all my strength. I surprise him just enough that he loses his center on my hips.

I try and scrabble away, but I only end up pinned on my stomach as he throws himself on top of me again. I can't stop a grunt, the air forced from my lungs as he straddles my back. Ah damn it, definitely over now. 

He leans forward and pins my shoulders as his hand grabs the back of my head. "One," he counts. I try to push up and dislodge him, but I don't have the strength to get my arms under me. "Two," he purrs as he forces my head towards the mat. "Three."

I slump, cheek pressed firm to the woven mat as I pant for breath. But Arlon doesn't seem intent to wait. His hand moves to my neck where he uses my collar like a handle to keep me pinned. He kicks my legs apart, and he doesn't do anything to prepare me save slicking his own cock before he roughly enters me.

I shout and try to pull away on instinct, but Arlon keeps me pinned by the neck as he adjusts his angle and thrusts in again. I clench my eyes shut even as the fight goes out of me. I relax as best as I can and accept it. He seems to feel me submit because only then does he start to fuck me in earnest.

I thought I had been taken rough by Arlon before, but this feels like he's intent on splitting me open. Adrenaline surges through me, but I still shout as every rough snap of his hips drives his cock into me. With nothing but the mat underneath, I have nowhere to go, and I take the full length of him with every punishing thrust. 

My own cock is trapped underneath me but even the rough friction of the mat does something to it. I feel myself getting hard as he pounds over that spot inside of me, wringing a primal shout out of me. He warned me what would happen if I lost, and he's certainly making good on his promise. This is a far cry from the controlled grandmaster I’m used to.

I grit my teeth and accept the discomfort as he uses me for his pleasure. Arlon’s low growl makes the hair on my neck stand on end before he kicks my legs wide and pulls me onto my knees. He keeps my head pinned before he impales me deeper. Pleasure races up my back, the angle sending him just over that spot.

He doesn’t seem intent to drag it out, and finishing me off doesn't appear to be on his mind either. He fucks me fast and hard, though his fingers never so much as brush my cock. I’m raw by the time he buries himself deep. He moans, a sound of pure relief and release as he fills me.

By degrees, he relaxes his grip and leans down to press a kiss to the back of my neck. “Good boy,” he pants. I flush with pleasure at the simple praise only to whimper as he pulls out of me. My sore hole twitches at the loss even as my cock throbs with need. Arlon doesn’t seem intent to give me an orgasm, and it’s not my place to ask for it, either.

I glance back and see Arlon sit up languidly, the tension gone from his face and body. The difference it makes is shocking. I knew he’d been stressed, but I hadn’t realized just how much until now. I can’t stop a small smile as I watch him stretch, eyes closed, an idle grin playing over his face.

He just needed this, and I’m glad I was able to provide it.

#

Arlon is noticeably more relaxed as the day goes on, though he doesn’t let my punishment for spilling food or being cheeky with him slide. I’m not allowed to clean up, and I feel his seed slide out of me and trail down my thigh as we head up out of the dungeon. But the real punishment doesn’t come until he sits down at his desk again. 

He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a small bag. I frown when he pours a bit of rice onto the ground beside his desk. “Whenever rice is dropped, I make sure the cooks collect it and give it to me,” he says. “So, as punishment for your tongue and for wasting food, you will kneel here with your hands behind your neck until my meeting with Farlan and Paulette is over.”

I look at the little spread of rice, wondering how bad it could be. Five minutes into the meeting, I start to get the idea. Each hard little grain feels like a pebble digging into the skin of my knees. It’s a test of control and endurance to stay kneeling when there’s nothing but Arlon’s command keeping me there. I get the feeling that’s the point. I keep my fingers tight through the rings on my collar so I’m not tempted to use my hands to push myself up.

Even though I’m sure they see me, Farlan and Paulette ignore me as the three of them go through their normal meeting items before Arlon moves onto the topic of extra security. Over the sound of my own shuddering breath, I hear that the side gates to the different courtyards are to be closed for the winter, the smaller drawbridges pulled up. During the day, the main bridges to the front and back will stay down, but there will be someone on watch for anyone who would cross it. 

“Is there a reason we’re tightening security?” Paulette asks.

Arlon sighs. “Just a precaution,” he says. “I’ll be making an announcement tonight about the execution of Jaret Voss and Lucien Carter.”

“Ah,” Paulette says. “Understood, grandmaster. We’ll make sure the only ways in are through the front or back gates.”

“Farlan, you can draw a guard rotation from the active list,” Arlon says. “Be sure Olbric’s included. He’s not officially on the active list, but it’ll do him good to get back to some structure.”

I can’t stop a quiet whimper, feeling tears sting at the corner of my eyes as Farlan and Paulette leave. Arlon strokes a hand through my hair before he helps me up. My legs fail to support me, but Arlon pulls me onto his lap and holds me close as he gently picks the rice from where they’ve sunk into my skin. He kisses my neck and shoulders, murmuring quiet praise into my ear.

As the pain fades, so does my shaking. Arlon tilts my head back to meet his eyes. “Are you alright, Dominai?” he asks quietly.

I blink hazily up at him and realize just how effective the punishment was at putting me back in my place. All snappy responses have retreated. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he says and kisses my head again before helping me to my feet. This time, my legs hold me. “Go grab us lunch.”

No one runs into me this time, but there are more looks as folks spot the telltale glisten on my thighs and the red marks on my knees. I catch sight of Thaddius, and I see his smirk before he turns away from me. I get the feeling he knew I’d be punished for this morning. What bothers me is that I don’t understand _why._ Why would he go out of his way to make my day harder? 

I scowl as I push the thought aside. No use worrying about it now. I hurry back to Arlon's office to find Galiva seated across from him. She grins as I walk past but otherwise ignores me.

“How much longer do you think they’ll need me?” she asks. 

I kneel to offer Arlon his lunch and he takes the tray from me without pausing his conversation. “Hopefully just a couple more days,” he says. “I’m sure Garrett is just running behind on the roads. We’ll give him a couple days rest once he’s back - if he’ll take them, that is.”

“I can pick up a few more shifts. I already agreed to do the afternoon shift today,” she says. “Though once Garret’s back, I think I’d like a break from corpimancy for a while.”

Arlon chuckles. “Consider it done,” he says as he puts a hand on the small stack of spell notes on his desk. “I’ll see what I can do about these in the meantime. I’m grateful for your help, and I know Garrett is as well.”

Galiva gives a little half shrug. “I’m happy to do it. The clinic is important,” she says. “It reminds people of the good that magic can do.”

Arlon offers me a dried blueberry, and I take it from between his fingers with my teeth as he says, “We can use all of the good publicity we can get, I think. Besides, I know you’re doing good work. Straetham will remember Galiva Qamari as a helper of the people. You do your family proud.”

Galiva ducks her head, looking pleased. “Thank you." She pauses for a beat before saying, "I think I’m about ready to petition for my divination mastery."

Arlon beams at her, and it makes me smile to hear her say it. “I’m glad,” Arlon says. “I think you’re more than ready. Your divining of Alix was enough to get you halfway there, so you just have to cast with me. Just let me know, and we’ll set a day.”

“Thank you, sir,” she says as she gets to her feet. “I’ll report back to the clinic for the rest of this week.”

“Thank you, Galiva,” he says. She closes the door behind her even as Arlon offers me a bit of cured meat wrapped around a cube of cheese. I eat lunch from his hand and try to gauge his mood. He seems calmer now, content as he eats his lunch and feeds me mine.

Once he’s finished, he picks up the small stack of notes Galiva left behind. “She’s getting overwhelmed with the demand of the clinic,” he says. “So I would like to use you to get her the spells she needs.”

I swallow and take the notes from Arlon. There’s a request for a number of mending spells for broken bones with the words ‘cart accident’ scribbled next to them. On top of that, she’s asking for something called ‘natural support’ which I’ve never heard of before. “Sir, I’ve only conduited for corpimancy once before,” I say, a little nervous.

Arlon’s hand strokes through my hair. “I won’t force you to this,” he says. “I know corpimancy was a soft limit for you.”

I look through the notes again and ask, “A spell for broken bones I’ve done before, but what’s this one?” I hand the ‘natural support’ up to him. 

“That is the spell that earned Galiva her corpimancy mastery,” Arlon says with a grin. “She found a way to stimulate the body’s natural response to illnesses to better fight it off. It is… interesting to conduit for. It’s actually a mixture of corpimancy with a diluted version of conjuration. Don’t worry - you won’t have to wear a cage to create it.”

I blink in surprise. That's a combination I haven't heard before, but it sounds like I'll get an orgasm out of it. “Sounds… interesting,” I say. “I’ll try it, sir."

Arlon hooks a ring through my collar and pulls me close. I feel his breath against my ear as he murmurs, “Good. Go clean up.”

I hurry to the baths to rinse before Arlon takes me down to the dungeon again. He turns the globes to a high glow, chasing the murk from the large room. He takes me to a wooden x-cross rests against one wall. 

He backs me up to it, pressing his chest against mine to pin me lightly, though after my punishment, I’m not about to struggle. He takes my left wrist and straps it to one wooden arm before he does the same to my right. He uses thick leather belts to secure me, wrapping them around my wrist and just under my elbow to immobilize me. Two more straps go on each of my legs, around my ankle and over my thigh. A last one wraps around my waist, leaving me pinned and splayed against the cross. 

I shiver with anticipation as I wait, watching Arlon go to his own cabinet of supplies. “Conduits choice,” he says as he grabs two small leather cases and a bottle of alcohol. “The familiar or unfamiliar first?”

I try to stamp down my nerves. “The familiar first, sir. Please,” I say, finding the politeness that I’ve been lacking today in the face of getting poked full of holes.

Arlon grins as he carries the supplies back over to me. “As you wish,” he says as he slides eight focuses over my fingers. “I’ll be using forty needles. Ten to each arm, five to each thigh, and ten on your chest.”

I can’t stop a quiet swear. That’s more than twice what I did the last time I tried corpimancy. “That sounds daunting, sir,” I admit.

“I will stop the second you say so,” he says. “But I would never have suggested it if I didn’t think you could do it.”

I let out a long breath before I draw in another and sink back against the cross. “Right. I’m ready, sir.”

Arlon kisses my head before I hear the glug of alcohol. The wet rag cleans the soft flesh of my underarms and thighs before he cleans my chest, right over my heart. I keep my eyes closed as I hear him open the little leather case.

I feel him gently pinch the skin of my underarm and brace just as the needle slides through my skin. I groan at the sting, and maybe it’s just because he’s targeting the underside of my arm instead of the top, but it seems to take longer to fade. Eventually it does, and I try to relax as the pain dulls to a throb.

Another pinch, another needle. I wince, but just focus on my breathing, inhaling deeply before letting it out slow. I do that after every needle, and by the fifth, I’m floating, feeling that euphoria start to warp the sensation of pain into something just adjacent to it. Arlon slides the last needle into my arm, and I can’t stop a quiet moan.

His hand cups my cheek and I find myself leaning into it as I open my eyes. My vision is already floating. “Are you alright, Dom?” 

“Yes, sir.”

He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Good boy.” 

He moves onto my other arm, and I feel the focuses crackle with charge as he slides the first one in. The needles feel foreign under my skin, cold at first before they warm to my temperature, the flesh around them throbbing in time with my heartbeat. Another ten are pierced through me before he moves onto my legs. 

The skin on top of my thigh can’t be pinched like my arm can, and I feel Arlon slide the sharp point of the needle over my skin before piercing through. The needle goes through almost an inch of flesh before it exits again, and I can’t stop a shout as my eyes fly open. The pain goes straight to my head, and I lean back against the cross with a groan, feeling a little dizzy. 

Arlon pulls the second needle from his kit, though he waits as he strokes my thigh. I draw in another steadying breath before giving a wordless nod. Only then does he pierce the second one through me. It feels like he takes forever to finish with my leg, and yet another eternity passes as he pierces five needles through my other one.

I’m shaking by the time he’s finished, grateful that the straps are there to hold me up. Then, he moves onto my chest. The focuses crackle again as he puts his hand over my heart, feeling the steady, yet elevated thud. Keeping my breathing even is harder now as every touch sends mixed messages of pain and pleasure. His fingers feel like ice against my heated skin as he cleans my chest again.

“You’re almost done,” Arlon promises as he kisses my forehead. He pinches a bit of skin on my chest, just around my nipple, though he waits until I nod before he slides the needle home. I let out a desperate little groan and let my head fall back as he slides another home.

He makes a circle on my chest, angling every sharp point to aim at my nipple. I’m limp against the cross, trembling with the shock of it even as I float halfway out of my body. But Arlon’s hand on my cock gets my attention. 

I’m amazed to find that I’m half hard, and I remember what Galiva said about corpimancy requiring a particular brand of pervert. Maybe I am that, because when Arlon starts to stroke me, I come crashing back into my body with a desire so hot it shocks me. Despite the needles in me, I strain against the straps to roll my hips into his hand.

Though my vision’s gone hazy, I can still see Arlon grin as he strokes me to full attention. When he lets go, I can’t stop a wail of disappointment. “Sir, please,” I moan.

Arlon chuckles and plucks the focuses from my fingers before putting on eight fresh ones. “In time,” he says. “Let’s see if you can earn it.”

I hear him open the other case and get my eyes to focus long enough to see what’s in it. A row of shiny metal needles with rings looped through one end rest in a neat line. Arlon pulls the smallest one out and holds it up for me to see.

Up close, I can see that it’s no needle. It’s far too blunt and far too long. A little thicker than a leather awl, though there’s a little bulb at the end that’s even thicker. “This will be new for you,” Arlon says. “So if at any point it is uncomfortable, tell me. The needles that are supposed to hurt are already in you.”

I nod, still not sure what he’s going to do with it. He drops a large glob of lotion onto the very tip of my cock and massages my head until I moan. Then, he puts the blunt tip of the needle to the little hole of my piss slit, and it breaks through my haze like a bucket of water.

“Woah, hold on.” Arlon freezes. I look at him with wide eyes, and he must see my barely contained fear. He gives me a gentle smile.

“I promise you it won’t hurt,” he says. “It’s… intense, but it is not painful. If you don’t like it, I will stop.”

I draw in a steadying breath. If I didn’t trust Arlon so much, I don’t think I’d even be considering this. One slip, and my cock could be ruined from the inside out. I bite my lip, trying to decide if closing my eyes would be better. I settle on keeping them open and nod.

Arlon moves slow, and I feel the head of the pin slide into the tip of my cock. There’s definitely a stretch, but the lotion eases the smooth metal as it inches deeper. “Aah, fucking hell,” I gasp, trying to decide if I like the unique sensation or not. But then Arlon pulls the pin up a little before slowly pressing it in further.

“Are you alright?” he asks gently.

I whimper and try to keep my hips still. “Yes,” I breathe. Arlon lets go and the pin slides in the last half an inch until the ring at the end settles against the tip of my cock, stopping it from going any further. He strokes my length gently, slicking lotion over it, and I can’t stop a gasp. With the little pole inside of me, it feels like I’m being stroked from the inside out. 

“Fuck,” I gasp as Arlon lifts the pin up by the ring and lets it slide back in again. The sensation is overwhelming, and it almost feels like I’m building to an internal orgasm, though I don’t know how I can cum with the thing plugging my hole. I trust Arlon to know what he’s doing, and he must because the focuses around my fingers spark as they start to charge.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Arlon says. He fucks my slit with the little metal pole for a moment longer before slowly pulling it free. He grabs another from his kit, and I see that it’s a little thicker and a little longer, with gentle ridges down it’s length. Judging by the hole that runs through the center, this one is also hollow. “I won’t go bigger than this today,” he promises even as he drops another glob of lotion onto my slit.

I take a steadying breath but nod before Arlon guides the pole into my cock. Even though it’s not that much bigger, it sure as hell feels it. My slit is stretched gently as the rod slides into me, and the soft ridges wring a gasp of pleasure from me. 

“F-fucking hell.” The tremor in my voice is getting worse. I don’t know how to handle this new kind of pleasure. It’s so different from what I’ve done before, and as the rod slides deeper, I can’t stop a shout of ecstasy as it pushes past a spot inside of me. It almost feels like Arlon hitting that spot in my ass, except it’s radiating from the wrong end of me. I let out a long, shuddering moan as Arlon fucks me with the rod, pulling it out an inch before gently guiding it back in. 

I strain against the straps as I shudder with pleasure. I feel every needle still under my skin, feel the bite of the leather straps around my limbs, every little ridge in the pole that fucks my slit. “Sir, please!” I shout.

Arlon grins before he unlatches the straps from my arms. “Move carefully,” he cautions. “Stroke yourself.” 

I don’t need to be told twice as I grab my shaft. It feels incredible as I stroke over my length, the gentle ridges of the rod enhancing everything my hand is doing. Arlon takes my right hand and guides it to the little ring of the rod. “Move slow,” he says. I do as told and slide the rod almost all of the way out before gently guiding it back in. Each ridge massages me from the inside out as the rod treks steadily down. It hits that spot inside of me, pushing past some unseen barrier, and I shout as I cum hard, my orgasm taking me by surprise.

My seed rushes out of me, and even that feels more intense. Some of it makes it out through the hole in the rod, but the intensity of my orgasm is enough that it pushes the rod back up, making the ridges drag through me all over again. I scream as the force of my orgasm pushes the rod free to clatter against the floor. Blearily, I see Arlon watching me, his arms folded across his chest as he grins.

When I’m finally finished, I slump against the cross, shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. Arlon murmurs quiet praises in my ear, though I barely register them as words. His fingers are gentle as they ease the needles out of me, and I whimper when he cleans the holes with alcohol. He doesn’t unstrap the rest of me until he’s finished bandaging my arms, legs and chest.

I fall against him, my legs turned to water. He’s talking to me again, but it’s not until he grabs me chin and makes me look at him that I’m able to focus. “Are you alright, Dom?”

I’m sore and exhausted, but I can’t stop a whimper of pleasure as I lean into his hand. Arlon’s proven, once again, that when I’m in the right headspace, I’ll let him do anything to me. Yet I’ve never regretted it. “Yes, sir.”

#

Arlon lets me go to dinner dressed. 

I’m still floating when he sits me down at one of the long tables, settling me between Olbric and Cancassi. He whispers something into Olbric’s ear that makes him chuckle before heading to the front of the room. 

Olbric cups my cheek and turns my face towards him. I’m powerless to stop him, but for a second, I’m afraid of him seeing me like this. The last thing I want is to stir up jealousy again. I reach up and put my hand over his, squeezing his fingers as I lean into his touch automatically. 

“Doing alright, Dom?” he asks gently, a smile on his face.

I nod even as Cancassi scoots a little closer and pulls me against their shoulder. Their long fingers feel amazing as they start to play with my hair. Olbric catches my lips in a quick kiss before he says, “I’ll get you a bowl.”

“If I could have your attention, please,” Arlon says and folks at the front start clanking their silverware against their glasses until the chatter dies down. Olbric returns a second later and sets down a bowl of vegetable stew over rice in front of me. All eyes turn to Arlon as the room goes silent.

The grandmaster looks around the hall to be sure he has everyone’s attention before he speaks again. “I have received notice from King Thermilious about the fate of the rogue wizards Lucien Carter and Jaret Voss.” The room seems to collectively hold its breath, waiting for him to continue. “Tomorrow, they will be executed at noon in the city center.” 

His words hit like a sledgehammer, and I feel the ripple of shock travel around the room. Cancassi gasps, and they’re not the only one. Olbric goes stiff next to me, and even though I knew it was coming, Arlon’s words send a jolt through me, chasing away the last of my haze.

“I requested their Quietus be private, and I was denied. As it stands, I will be attending the public execution,” Arlon continues. “Your choice of whether or not to attend is up to you. As always, you are allowed to decline for any reason and without judgment.” 

His eyes scan the room, and he lets out a small sigh. “I will be in the courtyard at second bell to leave for town. For anyone who wishes to join, I would like us to show a unified front in condemning the actions of these wizards who have hurt some of our own. We need to remind the people of Straetham that we are not like them. We are not kidnappers and rapists.”

His words hang heavy. Across the hall, I hear someone’s shuddering breath. Arlon seems to meet every eye in the room when he says, “We are healers. We are guardians. We are servants. The work we do here is as important as it is misunderstood. Unfortunately, we are judged by the actions of the worst among us. Diran, Jaret and Lucien’s atrocities reflect on us all. I hope I am wrong in thinking that the next couple of months will be difficult for us. But as a precaution, I have tightened security around the Crux by instituting a guard rotation. I request that if you cross the mote or go into town, to go in pairs or more.”

Arlon sighs, and he seems weary beyond his years. “Never forget that we are doing incredible things here,” he says. “Never forget that we pursue the study of magic not just because we want to, but because it is _important._ We exist in a position to create positive change in the world. But remember that you are important as well. Make sure, especially during times like this, that you take care of yourselves, and you take care of each other.”

He looks around the room with something like pride on his face. He gives a wan smile. “As always, my door is open to any one of you, should you need me.”

Arlon nods and steps away from the front of the room. The chatter picks up almost immediately. I watch Arlon grab dinner for himself before he walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Are you alright, Dom?” he asks.

I nod, and his hand gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “There are others who will need you tonight. Take care of them,” he says. He presses a gentle kiss to my head before he unlatches the collar from my neck. “Thank you for today.”

I blink when I realize I’ve been dismissed for the night. Arlon walks across the hall to the door, and Alix pushes to his feet to follow him. Apparently others need him tonight, too. I watch them go as I store my collar in the pocket of my robe.

Being collared means being under his command, both inside the casting room and out. I never expect to be thanked because it’s my duty and pleasure to do it. Arlon makes his gratitude known in other ways, but hearing his quiet thanks warms me from the inside out. 

Yet when I look at Olbric and Cancassi, I realize he’s right. Arlon needed me today, but others need me tonight. This order is an easy one to obey.


	15. Execution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Crux wizards attend the execution of rogue wizards Lucien and Jaret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year all! I hope you found a way to enjoy a safe way to ring in 2021. I'm still recovering from my own new year's eve, which is why this chapter's being posted a little later than normal. There's no content warning for this chapter, other than to say that this is the part I've been waiting for you all to 😈
> 
> Thanks for your comments and kudos! I hope you enjoy!

We head down to the baths after dinner as a group. I lead the way while Olbric carries Cancassi down the winding stairs. While the two of them settle into the pool, I sit on the edge and dip my feet in, not wanting to get my bandages wet.

None of us much feel like talking. Cancassi has a haunted look on their beautiful face, and Olbric pulls them into a tight embrace. I take Olbric's hair out of it’s tie and comb through it with my fingers before I do the same to Cancassi. We all soak in the quiet comfort of each other’s company.

It’s not too long before Galiva pads down the stairs. She’s not wearing her robes, and there’s a bit of dried blood on the front of her cotton shirt. It must have been a rough afternoon at the clinic. She looks exhausted, but her face softens to a smile at the sight of us.

“I heard,” she says before anyone can ask. She comes over and kisses my neck. “Take the bandages off and come in. The magiline will help them heal.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I unwrap the bandages that Arlon dressed me with as Galiva pulls off her clinic clothes. I sink in next to Olbric, and Galiva scoots in beside me with a groan.

“Long day?” I ask.

“Long month,” she mutters but gives me a grin. “Thanks for your help with those corpimancy spells. Arlon gave them over when I got back.”

I kiss her cheek. “You’re welcome. It was interesting to conduit for.”

Galiva grins knowingly and sinks back, letting her head rest against the lip of the pool. I sink in a little further as well, resting against Olbric’s shoulder with a sigh. It’s only then I feel him shaking. I look up and see his face darkened with anger. 

“I’m going,” Olbric says at last, and I hear that same anger in his voice. “I want to see them drop.”

His words echo around the quiet bath. I understand his anger, but for some reason, hearing it makes me uncomfortable. When he’s casting and laughing and kissing me, it’s easy to forget how well acquainted Olbric is with death. Seeing another person die doesn’t make him squirm like it does me.

Cancassi swallows and drags their fingers through their loose white hair. “I am, too,” they say quietly. “I… need to see that they’ll never hurt anyone again.”

Olbric takes their hand and brings it to his lips in a gentle kiss. Cancassi gives a wavering smile and buries their face against his neck.

Galiva rubs her tired eyes. “I’ve had my fill of death these past weeks,” she mutters. “I’m not going.” I wrap my arms around her and press a kiss against her shoulder.

I’ve been going back and forth on whether I’d go since Arlon told me this morning. I’m not like Olbric. I can kill and skin a deer without flinching, but I remember all too well what it felt like to sink and arrow through Virico’s eye. I still feel sick, even if he deserved it. But Arlon wants a united front.

Besides, I’m a large part of the reason they’re facing the hangman’s noose. If I hadn’t caught Sight of them attacking Olbric, they wouldn’t be here. In a way, I feel responsible, and it only seems right to see the end of it.

My sigh feels like resignation. “I’m going, too.”

#

After we’re dry, Olbric takes me to his room. As soon as the door is closed, he kisses me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. He bites and nips, crushing his mouth against mine as he backs me towards his bed. I can taste his anger, feel his fear as it shivers through him.

Even after all these months, he’s never forgotten the helplessness of being overwhelmed outside of the mines. Never forgotten being beaten and drugged and dragged towards an even worse fate. I don’t think he can. I don’t think anyone could. 

I fall onto the bed and pull him with me, deepening the kiss into something softer. My hand drags through his loose hair, stroking, calming. I feel the heat and fear drain out of him as I explore his mouth gently, holding him close.

When we finally part, tears stick to his long eyelashes and wet his cheeks. Arlon was right - I’m needed here tonight. I wrap my arms around Olbric and hold him close. I ease his bathrobe off of him and do the same, feeling the heat of his naked skin against mine. There’s nothing I can say, so I just offer my comfort.

It must be enough. Olbric cries himself out. His shuddering breaths even out and slowly fade to the deep breaths of sleep. Only then do I do the same. 

I wake at dawn with Virico’s sneer just behind my eyes. Olbric’s back is snug against my chest, and I let out a quiet sigh as I tighten my arm over his waist. The small bed puts my back against the wall, and I don’t want to disturb him. Instead, I stay put, breathing in his scent as I doze.

The sun brightens his window, and I feel Olbric jerk under my arm. He groans, low and quiet as I feel him tense. Apparently I’m not the only one having bad dreams. He’s had enough nightmares in the past months that I recognize the signs.

“You’re safe,” I murmur. “You’re okay.” It sometimes works, but not today. Olbric wakes with a jolt, and I immediately lift my arm from his waist, not wanting him to feel trapped. He breathes like he’s been running before he pushes his tangled hair out of his face.

“Are you alright?” I ask quietly.

“Just a bad dream.”

I press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and for a few long moments, we just lay there. I don’t have to ask what his dream was about, and he doesn’t need to tell me. In the months since the cave, he only wakes like this for one reason. 

“Are you ready?” I ask at last.

Olbric lets out a long sigh. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

We get up and get dressed before heading down to breakfast. There are others awake as well. Allisande and Margeurite talk quietly while Cancassi and Alix sit shoulder to shoulder. I grab a handful of nuts and dried fruit, though I don’t have much of an appetite.

I take a seat next to Alix, and though he catches my eye, he doesn’t smile. There are bags under his eyes, and I can tell he hasn’t slept at all. “How are you faring?” I ask quietly. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for him.

He swallows, and I see tears shine his eyes. “Not great,” he admits. He takes a steadying breath, though I hear it shudder out of him. “Allis, Iona and Marvin are all going but… I don’t think I can do this. I-I can’t face them again. Not after everything-” His voice breaks, and he rests his head in his hands.

Looking at him is like looking at a raw wound. Cancassi eyes meet mine in a silent plea for help, as if I’ll have something to say that will make it better. I don’t. Instead, I say, “No one will blame you. You have to do what’s best for you.”

Alix shakes his head. “I know,” he says. He gives a small, humorless laugh. “I don’t conduit often, but before Lucien was kicked out of the Crux, I did for him. I thought I trusted him.” His fingers slide through his short hair and pull tight. “After all he did to me, it’s _fucked_ that a part of me is going to miss him.”

#

The early afternoon air is cold. Flakes of snow ride on the breeze that cuts through my cloak like it’s not even there. I shiver and stand a little closer to Olbric. On my other side, Allisande looks up at the gallows, her face pale, lips drawn into a thin line. 

About thirty of us made the trek into the city center of Straetham. We make an impressive group. We wear our robes under our cloaks, but keep our spell necklaces displayed proudly. Everyone who sees us immediately knows who we are, and plenty of them stare.

Some look curious. Some look angry. Others, however, come up to talk to us. A handful of well dressed people walk over to Arlon, and he seems pleased to see them. Mabel’s even stepped away from her pie shop, and she makes her way through the crowd to pull Olbric into a tight hug. I even catch sight of Katarine of the merchant’s guild as she weaves through the crowd to stand next to us in silent solidarity. Chatter murmurs throughout the crowd, and it seems like half of Straetham has showed up to watch the execution. 

I hear the clatter of wheels and horse hooves approaching over the cobblestone. The crowd starts to jeer, though they part to let the prison cart through. It rolls to a stop by the gallows, and someone steps from the front to walk up the stairs and onto the platform. He looks official, dressed in a black cloak with the royal crest of a rearing gold griffin on his lapel. The crowd falls quiet.

I swallow as Jaret and Lucien are led up next, their hands bound in front of them. Six months in a dungeon hasn’t done them any favors. They look worn thin, pale and haggard, like they’ve already put one foot into Quietus.

A hooded woman follows them up. A priestess of Quietus, I realize. As she secures the noose around Lucien’s neck, I have to look away. 

“Jaret Voss and Lucien Carter,” the official says, and what little chatter remains dies. “By your own admission, you have both been found guilty of the crimes of practicing magic outside of the Crux’s jurisdiction, assault, kidnapping, torture and rape. These crimes were committed against members of the magical community and the royal family.”

Jeers and boos rise from the crowd once more. I don’t want to look at the platform. Don’t want to see Jaret and Lucien’s expression and they face their death. Instead, I scan the crowd, seeing an almost gleeful kind of excitement at the prospect of watching two people drop. It makes me feel a little sick. 

Among the sea of people, a flash of grey skin catches my eye. Brown hair hangs unevenly around his face, and he moves half-stooped, like he’s trying not to be noticed. A hard task for someone as tall as he is. He stops right at the base of the gallows, on the opposite side from us. With his braid gone, he’s almost hard to recognize. 

It’s Garrett.

But it’s not just his crudely shorn hair that makes him look… off. I can’t place it, but something isn’t right. I keep an eye on him as I slide past Allisande, Margeurite and Cancassi to tug on Arlon’s sleeve. 

“Sir,” I start, but before I can even point, Garrett reaches for a spell.

There’s a crash of breaking wood and screams of alarm. The sounds of panic only swell when another spell is released. Even from here, I feel the wave of force radiate out from Garrett. It topples the people closest to the gallows, and even as far away as I am, it feels like a gale trying to shove me over. 

Chaos breaks out. The crowd starts running like panicked cattle, all trying to get away from the square. For a second, I’m lost in the mob, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, overwhelmed by the sounds of panic. Bodies crash into me, nearly sending me sprawling, and for a breathless moment, I wonder what it’s like to be trampled to death. 

But then a hand grabs me and yanks me close. I breathe in Arlon’s familiar scent and feel the tingle of abjuration cover us. People still run into us, but they bounce off like we’re a pillar instead of more bodies in the surging sea of them. I blink dust out of my eyes and look up at the grandmaster.

“Stay behind me,” he orders. Around us, I start to hear the familiar whoosh of spells being released as the others work on crowd control. Arlon releases another spell and holds it in front of him like a shield as he stands over a downed woman, forcing the crowd to part around him like water.

I swear and help her to her feet. She’s dirtied, but doesn’t look hurt. “Are you alright?” 

She’s obviously shaken, but she nods. “Thank you,” she says before disappearing into the crowd. I follow behind Arlon as he pushes back towards the gallows. We break through, and I see that the wooden platform has been destroyed. The royal official and executioner are buried in the rubble, but I see Jaret lift the noose from his neck and haul Lucien to his feet. 

Garret walks towards them, his movements stiff. The two rogue wizards cower back from him, yet when he opens his hand, two charged focuses rest in his palm. Jaret looks at him, his eyes widening with dawning comprehension. He laughs and snatches the focuses from the half-orc before pushing one into Lucien’s bound hands. “What did I fucking tell you?” Jaret crows. “Diran’s not leavin’ us to die.”

Arlon doesn’t hesitate. He shoots off an abjuration, but Garrett intercepts it with one of his own. Lucien throws his arms up before looking at the half-orc in disbelief, as if trying to figure out why he’s protecting them. 

I’m trying to figure out the same. But looking at Garrett is like looking at a stranger. There’s not a lick of recognition on the half-orc’s face as he stands, crouched and ready for a fight. Arlon shoots off another spell but it’s too late. Jaret grabs Lucien and they both release their spells. In a blink, they vanish. 

“Garrett!” Arlon snarls, but the half-orc doesn’t respond. Instead, he returns the attack - evocation judging by the rain of ice that shoots from his hand. I flinch and throw my arms up on instinct, but Arlon does the smart thing and counters it with a shield. The ice storm crashes against it like so much breaking glass. Behind Garrett, I see the city and royal guards rallying as they make their way through the remains of the crowd, closing in.

“Arlon,” I gasp.

“I see them,” he growls. “Make us a door, Dom. I’ll get him through it.”

I don’t question him. There’s no time. With the way the guards are raising their bows, they’re not going to give Garrett a chance to surrender. Arlon moves in, circling the half-orc carefully. Garrett doesn’t pay me any attention as I break off and go the opposite direction, trying to get behind him. 

Garrett keeps his grey eyes focused on Arlon, loosing spell after spell from his substantial necklace. Arlon dodges and blocks before shooting off a flashy evocation that erupts into a storm of fire against Garrett’s shield. It gives the advancing guards pause, and I grab my conjuration before letting it loose. 

The tear in the sky appears, and I grab the corner of it, pulling the door open as wide as I can. It resists, like trying to pull a wet blanket off of a clothes line. “Ready!” I shout and hope Arlon can hear me over the roar of his spell.

He must, because a second later, he bursts through the flames, skin glowing with abjuration. He looses another spell that cracks through Garrett’s defenses like shattering a window before he tackles him around the waist.

It's the same way he did to me in the dungeon, except this time, he’s not holding back. Arlon roars, and his momentum carries them both back and straight through the door of my spell. I follow them in and slam the door behind us, shutting us all into my conjuration.

Garrett crashes against the floor, but his fist slams into Arlon’s face, sending him sprawling. Garrett staggers back to his feet but as the half-orc reaches for his spells, Arlon tackles him again, wrestling his hand away from the necklace. He tries to tear the spell necklace off, but Garrett yanks back. After Olbric was captured, we all reinforced our necklaces with wire, and there's blood where it cuts into Arlon’s fingers.

It’s like watching giants clash. They’re equally matched in size and strength, and I realize that this is who Arlon usually spars with on the mat in the dungeon.

I’m frozen to the spot. My thoughts grind to a halt. I don’t have my bow. I don’t know what to do. How to help.

Garrett’s fist connects hard with the side of Arlon’s head, and the fight goes out of him. Oh gods, he’s _losing._ Garrett grabs Arlon by the throat before tripping him over his leg. Arlon goes down hard, and the half-orc helps him along, cracking his head against the ground before he tightens his grip, tusks bared in a snarl. Arlon chokes and grabs his hand, slamming down on Garrett’s forearm with his own to try and break his grip. Garrett holds, and Arlon gags as fingers dig into his neck.

I step towards them before I can remember all the reasons not to. “STOP," I shout, and a spell fizzles out around my neck.

Garrett jerks to a halt like he’s run into a wall, but I see him fighting the command. There’s got to be something else. I fumble for my necklace, the panic ebbing just enough for me to remember it’s there. I feel the hum of each spell as I seek out the right one, and pray to the gods it’ll work.

Arlon snatches Garrett’s necklace from around his neck and tosses it to my feet as my command wears off. Garrett goes to strike again as I find it. The enchantment that Arlon and I made that night he stopped us. I release it the second before his fist connects with Arlon’s face. 

Garrett jerks like he’s just waking up. Like he’s been doused with cold water. He blinks, and I see _him_ again.

“Oh gods,” he whispers. “What’s happened?”

Arlon groans as he goes limp underneath him. “You broke my winning streak.” 

Garrett looks at Arlon as if just seeing him. The grandmaster’s face is bloodied, cheek already starting to swell. As Garrett pulls his hand from his neck, there's a copy of it left in bruises on Arlon's skin. The half-orc staggers off of him, looking horrified. “And what else?” He winces and puts a hand over his eyes, like he’s trying to block out the light. “Ah, fucking hell.”

“Nothing short of public mayhem,” Arlon says. He sits up slow and grabs his ribs with a wince. Garrett sinks to the ground, resting his back against the wooden tub. He buries his face in his hands. “Though it appears you were doing it under enchantment. What happened?”

Garrett moans and pushes his shorn hair away from his face. “Diran happened. He caught up to me on the road.” He reaches for his neck, and his head jerks up. “Where is it?”

“Here." I grab his spells and offer them back, but Garrett scoots away from me. 

“No. There’s an active one on there,” he says. “Reinforcement in case the spells he cast on me failed.”

Arlon quickly grabs the necklace away from me before he finds the focus in question. It’s not quick-tied on, so Arlon has to unstring the whole damn thing to get to it. Focuses spill across the floor, but I stop them before they can roll far. 

“His cutthroat was pretending to rob me,” Garrett says. “Put on a good act of it, too. Dirty dress, using a fucking _kitchen knife._ I thought she was more desperate than dangerous. Never imagined I’d have to use a spell. Thought I’d just send her on with some coin. Didn’t realize it was Isa until Diran stunned me from behind.”

Arlon finally finds the focus and rips it from the necklace like tearing off a wart. _“Fuck me,”_ he gasps and drops it, shaking his hand out like he’s been burned. It starts to roll, but I reach to stop it. _“Don’t!_ Don’t touch it.”

I freeze, and the sickly yellow focus looks up at me like an eye. I shiver and get the distinct feeling it’s watching us. I pull my scarf from my neck and toss it over the evil looking thing.

“What the hell is that?” Arlon asks, and I’m a little surprised that he doesn’t know.

“Enchantment and divination,” Garrett says hollowly. “He spell stacked a few different enchantments to soften me up, and added _that_ to enforce his own will over mine. I-I’m not sure, but I think it lets him watch.” I look uneasily at my scarf and kick it a little closer to be sure the whole focus is covered.

Garrett’s broken laugh sounds closer to a sob. ”He turned me into a fucking puppet. And I walked myself right into it.”

Arlon scoots towards him to grab the back of Garrett’s neck. He pulls him until their foreheads touch, noses almost brushing each other. I suddenly feel like I’m intruding on a private moment. “No, you were giving a ragged thief the benefit of the doubt,” Arlon says. “You were being kind. And Diran used that kindness against you.”

Garrett draws in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know how he got them, but he has divination pillars,” he says. “I-I think we must have been at one of the Barclay’s estates in the country. He’s set up in the Eastern Reach.”

“Do you remember where?” Arlon asks.

Garrett shakes his head, and that little bit of hope I had snuffs out just as quick as it appeared. “He made sure I couldn’t,” he says. “There are… a lot of gaps. What I can remember isn’t good.” He gives a small laugh that sounds closer to tears as he drags his fingers through his shorn hair. “He cut off my braid.”

Arlon presses a kiss against his forehead. “You’re alright,” he says. “It’ll be alright.”

Pain flashes across Garrett’s face, and he shakes his head harder. “They’re going to kill me, Arlon,” he says, his voice gaining a tremor as the reality sets in. “I just _attacked a city center_ to spring two dangerous wizards from the fucking _gallows!”_

Arlon tightens his grip protectively. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

“They’re going to shoot me the second we step out of here.”

“Listen to me, I am _not_ going to let that happen.” Arlon grabs Garrett’s face, leaving a smear of blood from his cut hand on his grey skin. “Dom, what’s our situation outside?”

I crack the door open and hear shouting. There’s an official looking royal guard arguing with Allisande. The others help form a circle around us, hands outstretched to support the barrier that keeps the guards and civilians at bay. I hear shouting from the crowd that seems to have stopped fleeing and started getting angry.

“Aah, fuck. Not good.” I close the door again. “The others are keeping the guards off us, but they don’t look happy.”

“I knew it,” Garrett says, his voice hollow. “When I came to Straetham, somehow I always knew this is how I’d go. Torn apart by an angry mob.”

There’s a sharp crack as Arlon slaps him across the face. “Snap out of it!” He gives a hard shake to drive his point home. “I am NOT going to let that happen!”

It’s only then I see how scared Arlon is. He looks at Garrett with wide eyes, and his hand shakes as he presses it over the spot he just hit. But Garrett seems to come to himself. He meets Arlon’s eyes, and that fear is reflected on his own face. They share in it and seem to draw strength from the fact that they’re not alone with it.

“We are going to go out there, and you are going to surrender to the guard,” Arlon says before looking at my scarf. “We have proof of what Diran did. I may not be able to spare you a prison cell. You may even be there for a stint, but I _promise_ that I will protect you, and I will fight for you. You’re the king’s physician. You already have powerful people on your side.”

Garrett lets out a shuddering breath and clenches his eyes shut. “I know.”

Arlon kisses him hard before he lets out a long breath. They’re silent for a long minute. I don’t hurry them, even though the longer we wait, the worse I think it’s going to be. Finally, Arlon says, “I am so relieved to see you.”

Garrett gives a small laugh and pulls Arlon into a tight embrace. “No more than I am,” he says. He rubs his eyes before looking around. “Where the hell are we?”

“Dominai’s conjuration,” Arlon says. He looks at me and says, “Seems as if your collaring produced some useful spells. You used that mystery enchantment?”

“Yeah,” I say and run my fingers over my necklace. “That and one of the command spells I made with Ambra.” Though I don’t understand how - I never even touched it. Had forgotten about my spells entirely in my panic. But it doesn’t matter. It worked.

“Thank you,” Garrett says, his voice raw with emotion. We’re both thinking it - if I hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed Arlon. 

“You’re welcome.” I offer a hand and help him to his feet. He sways a little before he gives himself a shake, like he’s trying to slough off the remnants of the enchantment. Arlon gets to his feet slower, and I let him put an arm over my shoulders for support. He moves gingerly, and by the way he’s holding his ribs, I’m sure he’s cracked or broken a couple of them. 

Garrett swears. “I’m dry up of corpimancy spells,” he admits. “Ran out before I even left Belingrad.” 

“It’ll be alright,” Arlon promises, and I know he’s talking about more than just his injuries. I fold my scarf over the focus a few times before I scoop Diran’s spell up. I feel the little marble under the layers, and Arlon nods in approval. He lets out a long sigh and tries to smooth down his disheveled hair. “Are you ready?”

Garrett takes a few deep breaths, and I see resignation join the fear on his face. He gives a crooked grin, showing the little white tusks that jut up behind his bottom lip. “As ready as I can be.”

Arlon kisses him again, softer this time. “It’ll be alright,” he says again. “Just stay behind me.”

Garrett nods, and I put a hand on his shoulder as I come to stand next to him. He’s shaking, but gives a wan smile when he looks down at me. I return it, trying to provide whatever comfort I can. 

Arlon opens the door.


	16. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrett's fate is decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday all, and good riddance to the first full week of 2021. This has been a hell of week, not just nationally in the US, but personally as well. Fortunately, next week we get back to the sexier times. Thank you as always for kudos and lovely comments on this story. I hope the wait for this chapter is worth it!
> 
> Content warning for brief mentions of abuse.

The sound is deafening. There's shouting from the crowd, from the guards, even from the other Crux wizards. I wince and resist the urge to cover my ears, though I tighten my grip on Garrett’s hand. His shaking has turned to a visible tremor as the blood drains from his face, making his grey skin ashen.

Arlon walks over to Allisande and puts a hand on her shoulder. Though I can’t make out what she says, she sags with relief at the sight of him. Arlon turns towards the guard she had been arguing with. Terse words are exchanged, and I see a few of the guards turn a collective glare onto Garrett.

“-are not dropping this shield until this crowd disperses, captain!” Arlon shouts, his voice cutting over the din. “I don’t care how long it takes. He will go willingly once it is safe to do so.”

The head guard purses her lips before turning to the man at her side and muttering an order. He nods and starts issuing orders to the others, directing the city guards to gently disperse the crowd. All the while, Arlon and the captain stare each other down, neither of them speaking.

Garrett’s ragged breaths start to even out as the crowd breaks apart. Finally, Arlon gives the order. “Drop the shields.”

“It’s alright,” I say as I feel Garrett tense. It feels like he’s braced to run. “It’s okay.” 

He lets out a long breath as Arlon and the captain approach. “Hands out,” the captain orders, pulling out a pair of heavy metal manacles. Garrett obeys without a word, his eyes downcast.

“This is unnecessary,” Arlon says. “I have his spells. I assure you, he will go willingly.” 

The captain ignores him as she locks the manacles around Garrett’s wrists. “Will you two also go willingly?” she asks and looks pointedly from me to Arlon. She must see the muscle in Arlon’s jaw jump, because she ads, “For questioning. We need to understand what went on here before we can determine what will happen next.”

“Of course,” Arlon says with a small nod. “Give me a moment with my wizards.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he motions me to follow him and calls the others around. Everyone huddles close, looking just as concerned and confused as I feel. 

Arlon holds up a hand to stop the flood of questions that threaten to break loose. “I will explain everything once the dust has settled. Until then, I need you all to return to the Crux. Allis, get with Alix, and find Paulette. You three are in charge until I return, and you are to _lock down_ the Crux. I want no one coming or going. Understood?” 

Allisande looks pale, her eyes wide. “Yes, of course,” she says. “How… long will you be gone?” 

Arlon sighs, and his answer makes my stomach twist uneasily. “I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “This much is clear - Lucien and Jaret have escaped, and Diran used one of our own to do it. It's no coincidence that Diran targeted a full master of the Crux to do his bidding. This was _meant_ to hurt us and our standing with Straetham.” He goes to run his hand through his hair, sees the bloody mess it is and lets it fall back to his side with a grimace. “So for now, we need to regroup and lay low. I will do everything I can to mitigate this.”

#

We’re taken to the nearest guardhouse, which happens to be the castle keep. Neither Arlon or I are cuffed, but the guards follow us close enough that I expect to feel a spear in my back if I so much as graze my spell necklace. Doesn’t help that one of them is the asshole that was guarding the gate the time Arlon sent me up to the palace. 

My heart’s thudding a rapid pace inside of my chest, but Arlon puts his uninjured hand on my shoulder. “It’s alright,” he says. “We’re all on the same side.” Garrett’s drawn expression tells me he’s doubting that sentiment pretty hard right now.

We’re brought inside of the keep, and to my alarm, are led to different rooms. Arlon catches my eye and gives a short nod before he’s led down the opposite hall.

The room I’m deposited in is little bigger than a closet. It’s empty other than a couple of chairs. My nerves are buzzing to much to sit, so I pace. My scarf and Diran’s focus are still clutched tight in my hand, and I don’t dare let go of it.

Time seems to slow to a crawl. I want to peek down the hallway to see what’s going on, but when I check the door, it’s locked. That sure doesn’t make me feel any better, but I’m too tired for my nerves and adrenaline to keep up. When they wear off, I’m left feeling drained and exhausted. I finally sit, and it’s suddenly all I can do to keep my eyes open.

A minute later, the lock clicks. I jump back to my feet as the door opens. It’s just my luck that it’s the asshole who comes in and shuts the door behind him. 

“Have a seat,” he says. 

I’m too tired to consider refusing, so I sit. I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest. The guard sits across from me before taking off his helmet and setting it next to him. Without it on, he’s actually rather handsome, even if he looks about as tired as I feel. White skinned, short black hair and that distinctive dimpled chin that had allowed me to pick him out from the others.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Dominai.”

“Just Dominai?”

I know he’s trying to out me as a bastard or the peasant I am so I just tilt my head and grin. _“Master_ Dominai, if you’d like.”

A bit of color rises to his pale cheeks, and I blink. Fucking hell - never thought I’d be the one to make others blush, but maybe I do have that effect on people. My grin widens, and it only seems to fluster him more. He looks away. 

“I need to hear what happened in your own words,” he says. “Start from the beginning.”

I tell him everything. In spite of the locked door, we’re supposedly on the same side, so there’s no reason to try and lie. I’m not great at lying anyway. But as I talk, it’s obvious by the look on his face that he doesn’t believe me.

“As soon as I cast the spell, he snapped out of it,” I say. I worry the scarf between my fingers. I don't want to, but I peel the layers aside to show him Diran’s focus. “This is part of what was controlling him. A spell made by Diran Barclay.”

He leans forward to get a better look. “And how did he get in possession of this?” the guard asks. And I must be tired, because then he reaches out and grabs the damn thing before I can close my fist to stop him. 

The effect is instantaneous. The guard jerks back, clutching the focus to his chest. When he looks up, his eyes flash with hatred. He lunges for me, his free hand going for my throat.

My own flies to my spells - can’t be said I don’t learn from my mistakes. A focus flashes out as I command, “Drop it!” 

The guard’s fingers open, and yellow focus tumbles out of his grip. It bounces against the stone floor and rolls away from us. He blinks and looks down, eyes wide with surprise when he finds his hand around my neck and his knee pressed between my legs. I follow his gaze and give a wry grin. “Usually I at least know the name of the person grabbing my throat.”

He staggers back into his own chair, face flushed hot red, though some well-warranted fear colors his embarrassment this time. “T-the fuck was that?” He’s looking at the focus like it might bite him. I doubt it will, but better safe than sorry.

“Enchantment and divination,” I say. “And strong enough that even the grandmaster didn’t want to touch it.” I toss him my scarf. “Maybe use that to pick it up next time. I wasn't carrying it wrapped up to keep it warm.”

The guard catches my scarf as he eyes me warily. I bet it’s a bit jarring to be on the receiving end of a command spell. I’ll have to cast that one with Ambra again. It’s proven pretty damn useful. 

“Thanks,” he says before he clears his throat. He crosses his arms over his chest, but under all those ruffled feathers, I see that he’s finally starting to believe what I’ve been saying. “How did he get it?” 

“He didn’t _get_ it. It was forced on him,” I say. “He’s a corpimancer. Was in the Reach helping with the aftermath of an earthquake. He was ambushed on the road home.”

“Or so he says.”

“Look, I just learned that Garrett’s the king’s own fucking physician,” I say, my patience wearing thin. Today has worn me the hell out, and this guy’s keeping me from a warm bed back at the Crux. “You think anyone that’s allowed at the bedside of royalty could just snap and level a city square?”

The guard opens his mouth, thinks twice about it, and thankfully shuts it. He eyes the focus before he takes my scarf and carefully folds it over. He uses it to scoop the glowing focus up and says, “I need to show this to the captain.”

“Be my guest.” I jab a finger at the focus. “But I’m not letting that thing out of my sight.” I’m still new to this whole dealing-with-the-authorities business, but I have a feeling Arlon would frown at me letting someone take a spell like that without supervision.

The guard looks me over before he hands me the whole bundle. It seems like he’s glad to be rid of it. I can’t blame him, Seeing what it can do is bad enough, yet I don’t want to imagine what Diran must have done to create it. “Come on, then. You can show her.”

Even if he’s an ass, at least he’s not stupid. I fold the parcel up again before I follow him out the door. “I never did get your name.”

His eyes flash briefly to mine. “Nikolai.”

#

We find the captain in the main room of the keep. Fortunately, Arlon's with her, and I relax a little. He finds my eyes, and I see that same relief reflected on his face. The captain turns, and it’s only then that I realize they’re not alone.

King Thermilious looks up as we approach, a frown on his face. He’s dressed plainly today. There’s no crown or circlet on his head, and without it, I was almost able to overlook him. He’s wearing a comfortable but finely made shirt and breeches under a well tailored coat to keep out the cold. “You have the spell?” he asks.

“Yes, your Majesty.” I step forward and pull the scarf back for him to see the glowing little yellow eye.

The king reaches out like he wants to touch it. I pull it away even as Arlon and Nikolai take a step towards him.

“Please, don’t touch it, Sire,” Nikolai says, voice strained.

“He’s saying that because he already did, Sire,” I say and meet Nikolai’s glare with an apologetic grin.

Thermilious pegs the guard with a hard look. “And what did it do?”

Nikolai shifts under the scrutiny. He can’t quite look at me when he says, “It... made me feel like I wanted to kill him. I may have if Master Dominai hadn’t made me drop it.”

Thermilious frowns down at the focus. “When I heard it was Garrett that had attacked the square, I didn’t believe it,” he mutters.

“Because it _wasn’t him,_ Sire,” Arlon insists. “This is the wizard that crafted a spell to heal you of the fever that took your father. The same one who works himself to the bone to heal, not destroy! You know as well as I do that he’s not capable of this.”

“Your Majesty, I think it would be wise to keep Master Garrett here,” the captain says. “He helped two dangerous wizards escape in front of half the city.”

“He was with us when we _brought in_ Lucien and Jaret,” Arlon snaps, his patience also wearing thin. “Why would he do that just to free them now?”

“Whether he was influenced or not is irrelevant,” the captain says, voice hard. “Master Garrett’s actions have sent this city into turmoil. People will trust magic only until they have reason to fear it, and he gave half the city a reason this afternoon. He is a danger. The fact that he’s supposedly one of the best the Crux has to offer only shows that they can’t handle what they create,” she says as she turns her hard gaze to Arlon.

The grandmaster looks like he’s been struck but like someone who is used to taking hits, he doesn’t flinch. His lips press into a thin, bloodless line. The captain holds his gaze, her expression stony. I don’t know what history they have, but now that I know where Arlon came from, I can’t help but wonder how far back that history stretches. 

Thermilious raises a hand to stop any further argument. “I want to speak to him,” he says at last.

The captain’s shoulders go stiff before she bows. “As you wish, Sire.”

#

The king insists on speaking to Garrett in private. Arlon and I are left with nothing to do but wait. We’re put in an only slightly larger room, but at least the door on this one stays unlocked. Arlon paces the length of it, fear etched into the lines of his face. The afternoon looks like it’s aged him years. 

“Arlon, you should sit,” I say. Using his name gets the attention I hoped it would. He stops pacing to look at me. “You look ready to drop.” Not to mention his walk is so stiff that it hurts to look at. 

He rubs his eyes tiredly. Someone’s at least bandaged his hand. Though the execution was supposed to happen at noon, it’s far past dinner now. The window in the small room shows that it’s dark out. Between the waiting, the questioning and more waiting, we’ve been here for hours. 

Arlon finally relents and comes to join me on the wooden bench. I stand to help him sit. He scowls but accepts my arm, wincing as he lowers himself down, his hand flying to his side.

“I’m getting too old for brawls like that.” He leans back with a groan, and I take a seat next to him. It’s something like habit that leads me to lean against him. His arm immediately slides around my shoulders, fingers finding my hair. I think we both need the reassurance of touch. I didn’t realize how tight I was holding myself until I stop. 

“I’m glad you were there," he says.

I shake my head. “I froze. I-I didn’t know what to do.”

Arlon tilts his head as he looks down at me. “What do you mean?” he asks. “You commanded him to stop.”

“I’d forgotten all about my spells,” I admit, though my hand finds them now. “I was wanting for my bow. Just wanted it to _stop._ When I said it, the spell just… went off.”

Arlon’s hand pauses in my hair. “Curious,” he says. “Having a spell in hand is usually a requirement. This fight would have ended very differently if it didn’t.”

“Glad it didn’t wait for me to remember what the hell I’m supposed to do in a firefight,” I mutter. “Otherwise-” I can’t finish the thought. Don’t even want to think it.

But Arlon finishes it for me. “Otherwise I’d be dead.” I swallow, but Arlon stops me before I can open my mouth. “You saved my life, Dominai. With that, you saved Garrett’s, too.” I go to turn my head away, but he knows me well enough to anticipate the deflection and grabs my chin to stop me. “There’s a reason he chooses to heal rather than fight. Can’t stand the guilt that comes with hurting someone, let alone taking a life. Diran targeting _him_ of all people was just one more cruelty. Have no doubt, you saved two people today.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and lean into his hand. I don’t know what to say to that, and I'm too tired to try. His fingers continue stroking my hair before he adds, “But remind me to give you a proper lesson on firefighting.”

I give a huff of a laugh and turn to kiss his palm. “Thank you.”

The door clicks open, and I help Arlon back to his feet. He holds his side with a grimace as he stands. Sweat stands out on his forehead, and I’m starting to worry about how bad his ribs are. 

The captain leads Garrett in, and I sag in relief when she unlocks the manacles from his wrists. “The king has declared this a magical matter. Master Garrett is released to the jurisdiction of the Crux.” 

Garrett takes a staggering step towards us, like he can’t quite believe it. His eyes are wide with shock, and it looks like his knees are about to fold from relief. Arlon takes his arm before they can and levels a glare at the captain.

“So long as three conditions are met,” she says. “Master Garrett is to be confined to the Crux. A representative of the Crown will assess him weekly until we are convinced that he is free of any lingering enchantment. He will carry no spells until the Crown gives express approval. Once we are convinced that he is as safe as you claim him to be, he’ll be allowed to return to his duties in the clinic on probation.”

Arlon looks furious but there’s no arguing it. He gives a curt nod. “Understood,” he says. “Are we free to go?”

The captain’s eyes narrow to match his glare. “The king is convinced of his innocence, but I'm not so sure any of you are. I’ll be watching, Arlon.”

I bristle as Arlon’s eyes narrow. He puts a hand on Garrett’s shoulder and murmurs, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

#

The trip back to the Crux is dark and cold and longer than I ever remember it being. Even though Arlon tries to refuse, Garrett gets an arm around his waist. He’s limping bad enough to warrant the extra support, which makes me wonder if he fucked his knee during their fight too. 

I lead the way and keep a few lengths ahead of them. It’s not quite far enough to miss their quiet conversation. I’m not trying to eavesdrop, but it’s hard not to hear. 

“What did you tell Thermilious?” 

“The truth,” Garrett says. “As best as I could remember it. He was understanding.” Arlon lets out a quiet huff before Garrett says, “He’s more reasonable than you give him credit for.”

“He’s let you come back to the Crux, so maybe he is,” Arlon says. “I’m grateful all the same.”

A moment of silence passes between them. “I’m sorry, Arlon.”

“Don’t,” Arlon says, and it’s like he was waiting for this. “Don’t you _dare_ apologize. This is not your fault.”

“Even so, I still fucked things with Straetham,” Garrett says. “Diran got exactly what he wanted.”

They’re quiet for a long moment, and I feel the unanswered questions hanging between them. Finally, Arlon asks, “What do you remember?

“After he jumped me?” Garrett’s voice emerges in something like a croak. It’s easy to hear how raw he is. It’s like the ground has has dropped out from beneath him, and he’s just been given the time to realize it. “He drugged me. Beat me. _Humiliated_ me. I-It’s fragmented.” 

“And?” 

Arlon sounds hollow, and I know what he’s asking. In the second before Garrett answers, my stomach drops, dreading what he’ll say. “No,” Garrett says. I can’t help but let out a quiet breath of relief, but it’s short lived. “He didn’t have to fuck me to break me. Said he’d never touch a half-breed.”

I feel sick. I remember the way Diran’s eyes locked with mine in the cave and shiver all over again at the memory of that cold gaze. Arlon is quiet for a long moment. 

“I’m going to kill him for this,” he says at last. The quiet conviction in his voice chills me.

“And what will that do for us?” Garrett asks, his own gaining an edge. “Captain Thora is about to be the arrow aimed at your back.”

“Because of Diran!” Arlon snaps back. “If Thermilious had just let me question Jaret and Lucien, none of this would have happened. We could have _found_ him!” I flinch and pull my cloak a little tighter around me. It’s a rare occasion to hear Arlon yell, and I hate the sound of it. “I am sick and tired of Diran being allowed to get away with this by virtue of his godsdamned fucking _surname._ I am _sick and tired_ of having my hands tied while he’s allowed to hurt yet another person I care about!”

Arlon’s voice cracks, and their footsteps come to a stop. I glance back to see Arlon yank Garrett into a fierce embrace. “I’m supposed to protect the Crux and everyone in it,” he says. “And I’m _failing.”_

Garrett sinks into his arms and lets out a breath. “No, you aren’t. Arlon, you promised me you would protect me, and you did. The guard wouldn’t have let me out of that square alive if it weren’t for you.”

“I sent you out in the first place,” Arlon rasps. “I may as well have sent you straight to him.”

“Only because I agreed to go,” Garrett says. “You didn’t force me to anything. I went so Galiva didn’t have to. I knew the risks of traveling alone.”

Hearing Gal’s name sends an unpleasant jolt through me. As awful as today has been, it makes my stomach drop imagining her where Garrett is. I feel sick all over again.

“I’m so sorry,” Arlon whispers. 

“Arlon, don’t. Please. I can’t take your guilt on top of my own,” Garrett says. I glance back to see Garrett rest his forehead against Arlon’s, one big hand cupping the back of his neck. Tears darken his grey skin. “Please.”

Arlon grimaces. He takes a breath, and I see him push his own guilt and doubt aside. He steels himself, straightens his shoulders, and the grandmaster is back. It’s like watching a man try to carry a mountain, even though he threatens to crumble under the weight. 

Arlon cups Garrett’s face and presses a gentle kiss against his forehead. “I promise I will protect you,” he murmurs. “Always.”

Garrett lets out a broken sob as he clutches Arlon’s shoulders. He’s been on the ragged edge since I snapped him out of it, but now it all catches up to him. Grief pours off of him, but Arlon holds strong under the deluge. He keeps a hand on the back of Garrett’s neck while whispering quiet assurances. “You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Arlon is the ballast Garrett needs right now, but who helps Arlon when the weight gets to be too much? I take a step towards them, but stop. It doesn’t feel like my place to interject, even if all I want to do is help. I pull my cloak around me and quietly stay out of the way.

Garrett eventually runs out of tears or energy. Maybe both. For a moment, they’re silent, and I glance back to see Arlon whispering into his ear. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but Garrett nods as he scrubs at his face.

By some silent agreement, they start walking again, and I fall back into place ahead of them. They’re silent for the rest of the trip, and it’s a relief when the Crux comes into view. The magiline tower glows with a ghostly light, and as we get closer, I see the shine of abjuration forming a dome over the other towers. For the first time, the Crux truly looks like a stronghold. 

The drawbridge is closed when we reach it, but I see we’re not the only ones wanting in. A hooded figure paces back and forth along the moat. 

“Bridgette?” Garrett’s voice comes out hoarse.

The figure turns, and a silver-haired woman looks out from the depths of the hood. I recognize her face from the few times I’ve seen her around the Crux, but I never connected the name. I remember Garrett telling me about her - that she had been a prostitute before they had come to the Crux together. 

“Thank the gods.” She runs forward and throws her arms around Garrett with a sob of relief. He returns the embrace and pushes her hood back as he buries his face against her neck. Her hands search him like she’s checking that he’s all there. When she gets to his head, she runs her hands over his shorn hair in disbelief. “There’s been so many different stories - I didn’t know what to believe, and couldn’t find a godsdamned soul who could _tell me,_ so I came here and found it like this!” She sounds close to frantic, and I can’t blame her. 

“I’m so sorry Bridgette,” Arlon says. “I gave the order to lock it down until I returned. I didn’t realize-”

“Didn’t _realize?”_ Bridgette demands, that panic turning to anger in a blink. “Didn’t realize the news I was hearing about my husband might concern me?” Every word roils with anger as she pulls out of Garrett’s grip. “I heard he had been arrested. I-I heard he was _dead.”_ She storms over to Arlon and pokes an accusatory finger against his chest. “You _promised_ me, Arlon. You said this would be low risk. You said he’d be fine to go alone.”

“Bridgette,” Garrett says, a hint of pleading in his voice.

“No. I’m not doing this again! I’m not going to let you apologize for him anymore,” she says and levels a glare up at Arlon. 

“Bri,” Arlon says, and it’s only then I see the mountain start to crumble. He opens his mouth, but can’t seem to find the words.

Bridgette gives a short, bitter laugh even as tears streak down her cheeks. “I’m too angry to talk to you right now,” she declares at last. She steps down the road towards Straetham, grabbing Garrett’s hand. “Let’s go home.” 

Garrett lets his hand slide out of hers. Bridgette looks back at him, her face falling. “What is it?”

“I can’t.” He sounds so very tired. “I’ve been confined to the Crux.”

“What?”

Garrett puts his hands on her shoulders. “Bri, I have put all of us at risk,” he says. “Diran enchanted me on the road. Had me deliver a teleportation to Lucien and Jaret. I _leveled a city square.”_ He cups her cheek and says, “Confinement at the Crux is a slap on the wrist compared to what I thought was in store for me.”

Bridgette’s hand covers her mouth with a hand, eyes wide with horror. “Oh gods.”

Arlon reaches out. It’s a rare time I see him hesitate, but he pulls back uncertainly before he rests a hand on Bridgette’s shoulder. She tenses but doesn’t pull away. “Please Bri, come inside,” he says.

She looks between the two of them, her eyes spilling over again. She wipes the tears away like she’s mad at them. “Fine. But this isn’t over, Arlon.”

Arlon nods before risking a quick kiss to her cheek. Her scowl doesn't soften. Garrett wraps an arm around her shoulder and kisses the top of her head. She grabs his shirt as she sinks against him as her anger cools to relief. 

Arlon steps up to the mote and reaches for a focus on his necklace. It sparks bright white, and the shield around the Crux responds, pulsing like a heartbeat. I look on in awe as the grandmaster lifts his hand, and the mechanism of the drawbridge clanks to life. The bridge lowers, and behind it, I see the portcullis start to raise. 

The light of the abjuration around the towers flashes bright before a slit appears, like a curtain parting. The drawbridge falls into place with a thud. The gates open, and the shield parts to let us through.

Through it all, I can’t look away from Arlon. Even beaten and bruised, he’s radiant, face illuminated by the light of the focus between his fingers. Power pours from him, but as the glow starts to fade, he staggers. 

I hurry to support him, pulling his arm over my shoulders. He leans heavily against me as we make our slow way across the drawbridge. “Thank you, Dominai.”


	17. Healing Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai walks Alix through a spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Hope you all are staying safe and healthy and taking care of yourselves mentally. I know that's been my challenge this week. I probably wrote less than 2000 words in the so-far-unnamed Sex Wizards Part 3, but I'm trying to be kind to myself during what was an awful and weird week. But the good news is that Mastery is already written and the last chapter has been posted! If you want to support me and don't want to wait to get the rest of the story, check out my profile to see where those last chapters are available (along with bonus content like character drawings, behind the scenes stuff, etc.)
> 
> This chapter was the hardest to write of this whole book, and there there's a content warning for brief mentions of sexual trauma. As always, thank you for your kind comments and kudos. They really are the highlight of my week <3

The next morning, the entire Crux shows up for breakfast. No doubt hoping for some kind of announcement. Everyone must have the portcullis raise last night.

Olbric and Galiva certainly had. They’d found me just as I reached the stairs to the divination tower. They’d been worried sick. I told them some of what had happened, assured them everyone was alive and well, but I’d left the rest for Arlon.

He doesn’t disappoint. Arlon sweeps into the mess hall, flanked by Garrett and Bridgette. His face is still bruised, but he’s walking easier today. Someone must have tended to his injuries. 

The chatter dies as he heads to the front of the room and turns to face us. It doesn’t look like he got a whole lot of sleep, and Bridgette and Garrett don’t look much better. But the tension that hung between the three of them outside of the mote is missing.

“I’m sure rumor has already started to travel, so I will make this brief,” Arlon says. “Yesterday at the execution of Jaret Voss and Lucien Carter, the city square was attacked by Diran Barclay. There were no casualties, but in the chaos, Jaret and Lucien were able to escape.” I hear a couple of murmurs, and realize that folks must have been holding out hope for their recapture. Wish I could say we had, but the second they got hold of those focuses, we were too late. 

“Diran used a proxy to accomplish this,” Arlon continues. “Master Garrett was attacked on the road back from Belingrad where he was aiding in the aftermath of an earthquake. He was held captive for five days before he was sent under thrall of enchantment to Straetham to deliver teleportation spells to Lucien and Jaret.”

I feel every eye in the room turn to the half-orc, but Garrett keeps his half-lidded eyes on the floor in front of him. He’s calm and collected, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. It’s only then I notice the leather collar fastened around his neck, partially hidden by the fabric of his shirt and robe.

“By order of the Crown, Garrett is confined to the Crux until further notice,” Arlon continues. “And during this time, we will be studying the enchantments that Diran used to control him.” He pauses and looks around the room, meeting every eye. “By necessity, the requests I made before the execution have changed. Until further notice, outward excursions are prohibited unless I specifically clear them.”

The outcry is immediate, but Arlon holds up a hand. “I understand that this is unfair,” he says, raising his voice over the din. He waits for it to die down before he continues. “By sending one of our own to carry out his dirty work, Diran has gotten exactly what we wanted. He has damaged the trust and our standing with Straetham. He has turned the public attitude against us.” His voice takes on a hard, authoritative edge. “Anyone who was in the square yesterday can tell you what it feels like to stare down an angry crowd. I fear what would happen if one of us met a group of them outside of the Devilish Boar. So, I repeat, any trips outside of the Crux must be cleared by me until further notice.”

Arlon looks around the room, and his severe expression is only made worse by his bruised face. “Captain Thora of the royal guard informed me in no uncertain words that we will be closely watched in the coming months. There will be representatives of the Crown here weekly, and as such, I expect everyone to follow common decorum during these visits and keep any casting out of their sight.” 

He lets out a small sigh, and I see the exhaustion written plain on his face. “This is not a punishment,” he says. “This is a precaution. We have already seen too many of our own hurt by Diran Barclay, and now he has two of his wizards back in his service. That alone warrants caution, but with tensions in Straetham as they are, I believe that the safest course of action is for all of us to cloister for the time being.”

There are murmurs of affirmations, though the agreements are much more vocal from the folks who had been in the square. After the anger I heard from that crowd, I want nothing more than to stay in the safety of the Crux. Not everyone shares the sentiment, but they accept Arlon’s decision on the matter.

“Please,” Arlon says. “Take care of yourselves, and take care of one another. Now, more than ever.”

Throughout the hall, the quiet, somber talk starts to murmur like a river. Arlon steps down, and he gives me a small nod as he passes. Garrett follows close behind, his eyes focused on Arlon’s feet. Bridgette, however breaks off. 

"‘Scuse me, Gal,” she says as she scoots into the small space on the bench between us. I move over to give her some room and end up stuck between her and Olbric with nowhere else to go.

“So, you’re the one who snapped my husband out of it?” Bridgette asks. This close, I can see the blue of her eyes as they focus intently on me. She has silver hair that hangs straight down to her waist and a long, pretty face that is gently etched with laugh and frown lines alike. 

“Y-yes ma’am,” I say, a little taken aback. Olbric’s only managed to scoot a little, so her face is just a couple of inches from mine. Her attention makes my heart thud a quick rhythm in my chest.

She reaches out, and for a second, I think she’s going to touch my cheek. But her long fingers detour to trail over my necklace. She finds the spent focus I used to snap Garrett out of it. I haven’t had a chance to take it off and return it to the Crux’s stores.

Her fingers pick out the other casting I have of the spell, and she closes her hand around it. “Hmm.” She lets go as she gives me an appraising look, but her smile is pure relief. “Well, thank you, Dominai. My husband and lover are both safe because of you.” I flush, trying to form a response, but she’s not done. “Since it looks like I’m going to be more of a fixture at the Crux for the time being, I’ll have to find a way to repay you.”

Any reply I’d gathered is shaken apart when she leans forward and presses a kiss to my cheek. Her lips are warm and soft, and I feel my face grow a few degrees hotter. Then, as quickly as she landed, she flies off and heads out of the mess hall. I blink in surprise and watch her go, a little stunned.

“You’ve never really met Bridgette, have you?” Galiva asks, sounding a little amused.

“Sure haven’t.” I rub the spot on my cheek where she kissed me. I could swear that I still feel the warmth of it. I look towards the door, but Bridgette’s already gone. Instead, Alix gets up from his seat at the back and quietly leaves. 

I only catch a glimpse of his face, but it’s enough. My stomach twists. It hurts to think of him confronting that sort of pain alone. I kiss Olbric’s head as I get up. “Can I catch up with you two later?”

Olbric follows my gaze. He brings my fingers to his lips and murmurs something in a language I’ve never heard before. It sounds something like prayer, and his smile is sad when he looks up at me. “Go on, then.”

I kiss Galiva’s cheek before I hurry out of the mess hall after Alix. I catch sight of him on the stairs to the abjuration tower, but he doesn’t make it far. On the fourth stair up, it seems to hit him. A sob breaks out of him, and he sags against the wall before sitting hard, burying his face in his hands.

I walk over and take a seat on the stair beside him. Cautiously, I put a hand on his shoulder, and when he leans into me, I take it as permission to wrap my arms around him. There’s nothing to say, so I just let him get it out. This has rattled all of us, but I can’t imagine what Alix must be feeling.

His grief seems to shed its own heat. Eventually, he cries himself out and leans against my shoulder, exhausted and red-eyed. “I’m having a hard time, Dom.”

I tighten my arms around him. I’m not here to judge. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He lets out a long breath and wipes his face. I wait as he musters the words. "When I first got back to the Crux, I didn’t want anyone touching me," Alix says at last. "I wanted comfort, but I... didn't know how to get it anymore. Lucien broke whatever capacity I had for trust, and I got _so tired_ of seeing everyone's pity that I started to avoid them altogether. It was easier just to stay away."

I think back and remember how little I saw him in those first few months after the cave. "You were hurting," I say. "You _are_ hurting. You were trying to protect yourself."

"Is foregoing every relationship I had in the Crux protecting myself?" he asks. "Is committing myself to loneliness _protecting_ myself?"

"In a way," I say. "Who can hurt the person that doesn't let anyone get close?"

Alix gives a short, bitter laugh. "You sound like Arlon." He sighs and rubs his face, but he doesn’t pull out of my arms. “One of the hardest parts of being back is feeling like I don’t have anyone to go to. Allis has Margeurite, Iona has Thaddius and Ambra, Marvin has Fey, and Olbric has you.” He buries his face in his hands. “And the worst part is, I have no one to blame but myself.”

“That’s not true,” I say. “You could blame Lucien, Diran and Jaret.”

Alix gives a small, humorless laugh. “That’s not what I mean,” he mutters. “Before the cave, I was a caster to be reckoned with, but I had a reputation for being… aloof. I could take a wizard, use them, and toss them aside just like they wanted me to. I had plenty of casting partners, but nothing much deeper than that. I… understood why people moved on when I couldn't give what they needed."

"What do you mean?"

Alix sighs. "I don’t cast the same way you all do,” he says. “When I have the choice, I don’t let anyone penetrate me. And I don't have much desire to penetrate anyone else."

I blink in surprise. I vaguely remember Alix and Olbric talking during Cancassi’s transmutation lesson, but I hadn’t been in a state to really think about it. It makes a whole lot of other questions pop up, but the first one that comes out is, “Why?”

Alix shrugs. “It’s just how I’m made. Tried it a couple of times, and it just… does nothing for me. You, on the other hand, seem willing to cast or conduit for anyone that consents to it.”

My grin comes out crooked. “How ashamed my hometown is of me,” I say. Alix gives a quiet chuckle, and I look at him with new appreciation. “Can I ask how? You’re a master five times over. I just… I want to understand how it is for you.”

Alix catches my eye, and this close, I can see they’re the color of warm honey. He tugs at his earlobe before he says, “It’s all mental for me. I fall into a headspace, same as anyone else. With casting, I liked seeing my conduit’s reactions. I could torment and please them as I wished. I liked the control and the… reverence that came with being this forbidding kind of caster. I enjoyed molding someone to do whatever it was that I wanted.” The wistful grin on his face fades as he ads, “Even before the cave, I didn’t conduit often, but … I liked the silence that came when I fell deep into it. For a least a little while, all the chatter in my head just _shut the fuck up.”_ He buries his head in his hands. “Ever since I heard Lucien had escaped, that chatter has been screaming.”

I know what he’s talking about. I feel it in the silver. I’ve felt it with Arlon, too. That moment when you’re your so focused on the sensation that your mind goes blank of everything else. “Is there anything I can do to help quiet it down?” 

Alix keeps his face buried in his hands. He’s silent for a long moment. “I just want to feel safe again,” he says. “I just want to feel like I can let my guard down.” He rubs his eyes, and I see the lump bob in his throat. “Galiva’s told me how you walked with her into the silver again. Suggested I ask you to work through a spell with me. Would you be willing to try?”

I feel like I’ll frighten him off if I seem too eager. “Of course I will.” But when he looks up, he almost seems surprised. Like I’d reject him. I get to my feet and smile as I offer him a hand. “Let’s talk.”

#

We find the comfortable alcove in the base of the Illusion tower to talk it out. I want to be sure I understand the boundaries, because the last thing I want to do is overstep. Alix lays them out clear, like he’s had to say this to every casting partner. But as he does, I start to get an idea.

When I tell him what it is, his face lights up. “That sounds perfect,” he breathes. It makes me feel warm from the inside out to hear a hint of excitement in his voice. 

We head towards the abjuration tower together. I follow him up the stairs to the third floor, and he leads me down the hall before opening a door to one of the casting rooms. Maybe I’ve just been on edge since the chaos in the city center, but movement from the lone bed makes me jump.

It’s Orabelle. She whirls to look at us, eyes red. Alix freezes, hand still on the knob. “Oh,” he says. “Sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be using this one.”

Orabelle gets to her feet, wiping her face discreetly on the sleeve of her robe. “No, it’s fine. I’m not using it,” she says. “I’ll leave.”

She heads for the door, but Alix says, “It’s Orabelle, right? You can stay, if you want.” The way he says it almost sounds like pleading, and I wish I had thought to suggest a monitor. Trust isn’t easy for him, and I don’t blame him for wanting to have someone else there.

For a second, she looks like she might decline. Her hazel eyes search Alix’s face before her own softens into a small smile. “Sure.”

Alix returns it and lets out a breath. He turns to look at me, and he’s nervous enough that the hint of excitement I saw during our talk is drowned out. His shoulders are held tense, teeth clenched so tight that the muscles in his jaw twitch. I move behind him and squeeze his shoulders gently, kneading the tension out of them just like Marguerite does with me. It takes a long moment before I feel him relax a little.

“Ready?” I ask.

Alix lets out a long breath. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“You say stop, I cut you loose. No questions asked.”

“I know.”

I smile and give his shoulders one last squeeze. “Go get comfortable.”

I toss another log onto the fire that Orabelle started to get it burning a little hotter. It’s cold and grey outside, but maybe this will help chase the pall away. I head to the cabinet next and sort through the ropes until I find the ones that glide through my fingers like silk. 

When I turn, Alix is wearing nothing but his underthings. The light of the fire gleams off of his copper skin. He sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over his chest like he’s trying to cover himself. I come up behind him, brushing a hand over his shoulder that’s managed to tense itself back up again. “Ready?” I ask again.

Alix lets out a long breath and pulls his feet up to sit fully on the bed. “I’m ready.”

I smile and uncoil my length of rope. I start at his wrists, binding them together before pulling them up and over his head. I tie his forearms together behind his neck, leaving his bent elbows just by his ears. It keeps his arms out of the way, fully exposing his chest. 

I debate tying a harness, but decide against it. I want access to as much of his skin as I can. Instead, I take a new coil and move down to loop the middle of my rope around his waist. "Stand up for me?"

Alix gets to his feet, stiff as a board. I tie an overhand knot at his waist to give him a belt and let the two ends of the rope dangle in front of him. I tie more knots at even intervals, letting the ropes hang down his thighs and shins. I take another rope and weave it around Alix’s waist before threading it through the space between my knots. When I pull tight, it tugs the ropes into a diamond pattern that keeps Alix's legs bound snug together. I lace him up all the way to his ankles before I'm finished. 

I straighten up with a smile and can't help but admire my handiwork. Alix stands precariously, wobbling a little for balance. "You're alright?" I ask.

It's a restrictive tie, but that's what he asked for. He's still tense, but he offers me a small, wavering smile. "Fine so far," he says. 

"Good." Without warning, I push him back onto the bed. He yelps as he falls, landing on the soft bed with a quiet "oof."

I kneel over him and feel him tense. It’s got to be hard for him to be this vulnerable, but he’s working through it well. "I'm not going to hurt you," I promise. "But I'm also not going to treat you like you'll break, ‘cause you won’t."

Alix relaxes a little and gives a small smile. "Thanks," he says. The nerves are still there, but he seems more at ease now that we’ve actually started. “I’m okay.”

“Good.”

I take the focuses from my pocket before sliding them over his fingers, three to each hand. It’s a bit of a thrill to see them spark with charge on contact, and even more to hear Alix’s little gasp. I lift my weight off of him before I grab his arm and pull him to sit on the edge of the bed. I move behind him, letting my legs rest on either side of his.

I trail my fingers over his back, frowning when I notice the scars that cross his beautiful skin. I can’t help but trace them, following the uneven lines. They must be remnants of his time in the cave. A single tail whip or a cane, I assume, used hard enough to flay. 

It makes my blood boil - even Olbric doesn’t allow folks to scar him. I trace a long one that stretches from his shoulder to halfway down his back, and Alix shivers so hard that I’m afraid he’ll topple over. I can see him straining against the ropes, trying to pull his arms down to protect his exposed core.

I steady him as I start to pepper gentle kisses over the back of his neck and shoulders. I hear his breath hitch, feel him tense. “You’re alright,” I murmur. “I’m not going to hurt you, but I sure as hell am going to make you squirm."

I tease my fingers down his sides and feel him twitch, a hesitant little laugh escaping him. It's such an endearing sound that I can't help but do it again. Alix laughs in earnest this time. He writhes in the ropes, trying to pull his arms down with no success. He tries to squirm off the edge of the bed, but he’s smaller than me, and I pull him back up by the ropes around his waist with a laugh of my own. “Squirm all you like, you’re stuck with me,” I tease as I tickle along his ribs.

He tries to escape as best as he can - which is to say, not very well. I’ve got him well and thoroughly trapped, yet when I pull my fingers away, he slumps against me, too relieved to be tense. I chuckle and press my lips against his skin as I slide a hand around his neck, pulling him firmly back against my chest. 

I don’t choke, but I tighten my grip just a little as I lean his head back against my shoulder. A controlled sort of pressure. He’s still panting for breath, but I hear a little groan escape him. I can’t see his face, but he’s limp against me. I stroke firmly down his side, and it must be a relief from the tickling. He shivers, goosebumps rising over his skin. “How are you feeling?”

It’s a second before he answers, like he has to pull himself out of it. “Good,” he breathes. “I’m good.”

“Good.” I continue my exploration, moving across his chest in sure strokes to pinch and tug at his nipples. I trace his hip, following the line of his underwear, though I don't dip underneath it. Alix had made it clear that I wasn't allowed to go underneath what clothes he decided to keep on. That's alright though. He's left me plenty to explore.

I lower him onto his back before I crouch over him again. I can tell that me hovering over him makes him uneasy, but he doesn't seem afraid as I stroke his cheek. “Can I kiss you?” I ask.

He runs his tongue over his lower lip. Yes.”

I smile and press my mouth against his, swallowing his little gasp. I’d been a bit surprised when Alix said he enjoyed kissing. He says it’s the intimacy that appeals to him more than the tongue does, so I make sure to keep the latter to a minimum. I nip gently at his bottom lip, dragging it between my teeth as I enjoy the feel of his soft skin against mine. 

I reach down and trail my fingers up over his thigh, feeling where the ropes bite against his skin. As soon as I get close to the crux of his legs, he tenses, his eyes shooting wide. His muscles strain against the ropes in an automatic urge to flee. I still my hand, but don’t move it away. He specifically asked me to touch him here, though seeing him snap out of it so abruptly makes me want to pull back. Reset. 

I fight back the impulse before I lean down to gently peck his lips. “You’re alright,” I promise. “No one’s going to hurt you.” I trail my fingers down the side of his thighs before I fold his knees and tickle the underside as well. 

His yelps as his eyes go wide, the fear disappearing behind surprise. I don’t let up, holding his legs steady as he squirms helplessly. I wring another anguished little laugh out of him, and it makes me real glad that tickling wasn’t off the table. He asked for soft sensation play, so I’m pulling out my tricks - even the meaner ones. I continue until his whimpers start to dissolve into helpless laughter. 

When I finally let up, he’s panting, and thoroughly back into it. His hazy smile greets me, and it’s almost a shame to rearrange him. Even though I try to do it gently, he yelps as I push him onto his side before rolling him onto his front. He wiggles as best as he’s able, forehead pressed against the bed.

“You’re cute when you squirm.” I murmur as I straddle his waist. I can’t see his face, but I feel him tense. I don’t let him settle into that fear before my fingers tickle under his arms. He shrieks, and I’m glad I waited until he was pinned before I aimed there. He bucks and writhes underneath me with surprising strength. “Gods, you’re a feisty one,” I tease. 

“No! No more!” he laughs, and only then do I let up. His laughter fades to breathless panting, and I kiss my way across his heated skin. The tickling warmed him up, but when I brush my lips over the scars on his back, he shivers, gooseflesh breaking out over his skin.

I lay down beside him and tuck my own erection out of the way so I don’t distract either of us. Then I pull him onto his side, snug against my chest. He’s limp, all the tension laughed out of him. 

I stroke his chest and lean forward to nibble at his earlobe. I’m not trying to tickle him, but he gives a small little giggle all the same, like I’ve gotten his nerves all crossed and confused. I move onto his neck instead, nipping gently down his skin. He shudders and lets out a little groan of pleasure.

I pull away so I can drag my nails down his back, just hard enough to leave lines. I follow them with my tongue and lips, tasting the salt on his skin. He gasps and arches in the ropes, shivering for an entirely different reason. It’s a thrill to know that I’m doing something he likes. 

Only when he’s limp in the ropes do I let my hands trek lower again. He tenses, an automatic reaction it seems, but I murmur quiet comforts into his ear as I massage the mounds of his ass.

“Don’t make me tickle you again,” I tease. Alix lets out a huff of a laugh, but it’s enough to snap his thoughts back from the dark place they were trying to go. 

I keep it up, massaging him through his underthings. It’s funny how much tension hides in those strong muscles, and I learned from Margeurite how good it feels to have them worked out. He lets out a soft moan as goes limp. 

From there, I left my fingers wander. I trail them lightly over his arms and down his bound legs. He leans his head back against my shoulder, and trace his lips before I place my free hand around his neck once more to hold him there. I squeeze gently, and he lets out a low groan, going limp as a kitten. Even though my fingers go wherever they please, Alix doesn’t tense up again. 

I brush my lips against the shell of his ear and ask, “Alix? How do you feel?”

He lets out a long, contented sigh. “Quiet.”

I smile and stroke my thumb down his neck. “I’ll continue for as long as you want me to,” I say.

Alix sighs again. “Just a little while longer.”

I kiss the spot between his shoulder blades and settle in comfortably behind him. My hands continue their exploration. With him snug against my chest, I can feel every shiver and twitch. When I find an area that gets a reaction out of him, I go over it again, brushing light as air before dragging down it with my nails, scratching gently. 

Goosebumps prickle over his skin twice more; when I scrape my teeth against his ear, and blow softly against the back of his neck. My quiet murmuring seems to do it, too. I murmur quiet praises into his ear, calling him beautiful and strong and brave and so very, very good. He shivers, as if the sound of my voice alone does something to him.

A quiet little moan escapes him, and it makes my heart soar to hear the sound. To know that I’m doing something he enjoys. When our fire starts to die down and the room starts to cool, he lets out a long, contented sigh. “I think I’m ready to be freed,” he says at last, and his quiet words bring me out of my own comfortable kind of daze.

I kiss his shoulders again before I sit up and stretch. This was more relaxing than I thought casting could be. A very different kind of fun. I sit him up again before I start to untie the ropes, freeing his arms first, then his legs.

He stretches his arms out with a sigh, and I rub the marks that I left on his skin. “How was that?” I ask.

Alix gives a small laugh as he lays back on the bed. “Amazing,” he says. I scoot behind him, and for a long moment, we just lay there, his back against my chest. Then he rolls to face me and pulls the focuses off of his fingers. I’m a little surprised to see that all six of them are charged. He closes my hand around three of them before he presses a kiss to my fingers. 

There are tears in his eyes even as he smiles. I know this is just a step down a long road for him, but I’m glad I was able to help him take it. I pull him into a tight embrace. “I’m glad,” I say.

“Thank you, Dom.”

“It was my pleasure.” 

I hold him until Alix starts to stir, detangling himself from my arms. I almost want to pull him back, but instead, I kiss his cheek and get up to gather his clothes for him.

While he dresses, I clean up. As I coil up the ropes, movement from the corner catches my attention. I blink in surprise as Orabelle gets to her feet. She was so quiet, and I’d been so lost in Alix that I’d completely forgotten she was there. She approaches the bed as Alix pulls his shirt on. 

“I’ve never seen a spell like that before,” she says.

“You’ve been casting under Arlon, right?” She nods, and Alix chuckles. “He is a particular kind of caster.”

Orabelle gives a small laugh, and she rubs the back of her neck when she asks, “Would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About this type of casting, that is.”

Alix looks at her in surprise, and I can tell he’s still trying to work off last of the spell. “Of course,” he says, and gives himself a shake. “Sorry - I’m still a little out of it.”

I finish cleaning up, before I walk back over to kiss the top of Alix’s head. “I’ll let you two talk,” I say. “Can I check on you later?”

Alix turns to look up at me. He grabs my collar and pulls me down into a gentle kiss. “Of course,” he says. “Seriously Dom, thank you.”

I smile against his lips. “I’d love to do that again,” I say. “Any time you want to.”


	18. A Good Day's Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai helps Cancassi get a good day's rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Thank you so much for your comments on the last chapter! I'm really glad that Alix has resonated with some folks, and there were definitely be more exploration of the non-sexual aspects of BDSM in part 3. This chapter does his get back to penetrative sex, and warrants a content warning for consensual sleep sex/drugged sex. Thanks for reading!

The mood around the Crux remains subdued as the week treks on. Olbric is quiet and sullen, and it’s hard not to internalize a little bit of that, even though I know it has nothing to do with me. Galiva reminds me of a trapped mountain lion. After going from an overload of work at the clinic to none at all, she's anxious and restless.

I think all of us are feeling a little closed in. The mote has been up for five days now, save for the changing of the shifts. Even though the weather’s only getting colder, all I want to do is go outside for a walk. Instead, I head towards the back courtyard just as the sun starts to rise. 

It’s already busy. I’ve come to realize that even if wizards do, the Crux never truly sleeps. The cooks are getting started on breakfast, and I smell baking sweetbread the second I step into the courtyard.

“Morning Dom.” I smile at Felicity as she pushes the swinging door of the kitchen open, letting out a gust of hot air in her wake. She’s got a tray stacked with pastries, so fresh they steam in the cool morning air. “Want one before I take them in?”

I take one with a word of thanks. “I hope Paulette is paying you well,” I say. The chamberlain had made a good choice hiring her on. On top of baking the best pastries I’ve ever tasted, she doesn’t shy away from talking to us like some of the folks who work the Crux do.

Felicity chuckles and says, “Wouldn’t have moved from out east if she wasn’t. The fact that folks around here appreciate them is just an extra bonus.” She waves the tray at me until I take another pastry before she disappears through the back door of the mess hall.

I eat one as I make my way towards the stables. During the summer, I went on a few rides with Cancassi in the woods around the Crux. I still can’t hold myself the right way in a saddle, but I sure do like Mo. As I approach his stall, the bay horse perks up and saunters over to the rail.

“Don’t have anything for you today, pal.” I scratch the white star on his face and feel how woolly his winter coat has gotten. He sniffs at me and nearly gets my other pastry with his dexterous lips. “Hey! Fuck off, you’ve got your breakfast right over there.”

Behind me, I hear a musical little chuckle. “After giving him apples all summer, it’s no wonder he’s gotten so lippy at your pockets.” I turn and smile at Cancassi as they step out of the arch of the stables. They push Mo's head away when he goes to sniff at the pastry again. “Hoping to find a way to break out back here? It’s useless. I already checked. Arlon’s locked the place down tight.”

I give a small laugh. “Damn. My afternoon plans are ruined.” I hold the pastry out in offering. “Hoping to sneak out for a ride?

Cancassi takes it with a smile and pulls their scarf down. “I sure would like to,” they say. “But I don’t think Arlon would even let us go in pairs right now. Hate to say it, but I can’t really blame him.”

The pall descends as Cancassi pulls off a bit of pastry. They don’t eat it. “How are you faring?” I ask gently.

“Tired,” they say. “I’m not sleeping well.”

That much I can tell at a glance, and it’s not just because of the bags under their eyes. Their shoulders are slumped, their entire demeanor subdued. They usually braid their hair, but it hangs loose now. Instead of any of the fine clothes I helped carry down to their new room, they’re wearing their coat over a wrinkled winter dress.

“Your leg?” 

“And everything else,” Cancassi says with a sigh. “Now that the bastards are free again, I swear it’s been hurting worse. Galiva’s given me more tincture, but…”

“But what?”

Cancassi finally takes the small bite of pastry from their fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“I doubt that."

They sigh, but I let the silence stretch as they decide how to get it out. “As soon as the stuff starts to drag me under, I…” It seems to take them a second to find the right words. “I get this ominous feeling in my stomach that they’ve broken through the perimeter. It’s... hard to shake. I fall asleep afraid, thinking that I’ll be helpless as a kitten when they get to me.”

“Fucking hell, Cass. That sounds terrifying.”

Cancassi shrugs. “The tincture still knocks me out cold, but I don’t actually rest. I wake up feeling worse than I did when I went to sleep.”

I frown and lean against Mo’s stall as Cancassi takes another small bite of pastry. “Have you had someone stay with you?” I ask.

Cancassi gives a small huff of a laugh. “My day usually ends when you all are getting up,” they say. “Who wants to waste a day looking over an anxious sleeper?”

“If it got you a full night’s rest - day’s rest? Then it wouldn’t be a waste.”

Cancassi glances at me out of the corner of their copper eyes. “I’d say that sounds rather nice,” they say. “Are you offering?”

I smile at that. “Only if you’re accepting.”

Cancassi chuckles and drags their fingers through their hair. “Alright then, Dominai. Let’s get ready for bed.”

#

I convince Cancassi to let me pamper them a little bit. While they go draw a bath in their room, I swing by the kitchens and ask Felicity for a mug of warm milk that I mix a spoonful of honey into. Cancassi gives me an amused look when I make it to their room and hand the mug over. “What’s this?”

“Something that will help you sleep, I promise,” I say. “Just some warm milk and honey.”

Cancassi chuckles and takes a sip. “Is this a human trick I haven’t been made aware of?” 

I shrug and walk with them to the bath where steaming water already rises from the glowing magiline pool. The floor glows with it, but the walls that section off the bath from the rest of their room are regular stone. Even so, the light from the floor and bath makes the room look like it’s filled with the morning sun shining through water. With the Crux’s shields up, every bit of the magiline tower shimmers with a calm, clean light. “Just a thing my mother used to do,” I say. “I used to have a hard time sleeping as a kid.”

Cancassi sets the mug on a short table by the bath where another little bottle rests. “Why was that?” they ask before letting their dress slide off their shoulders. I turn away automatically before realizing how silly that is. Not like I haven’t seen them naked before. It’s something about being alone with them in their room makes me feel like I’m looking when I shouldn’t be.

“I was an anxious kid,” I say with a crooked grin. “Was scared of damn near everything on top of being terrified of the dark. Still not fond of it now.”

Cancassi gives a small laugh. “Really?” They let their dress slip down their hips, and I know from experience that Cancassi doesn’t bother with underthings. I offer them a hand as they step down into the bath.

“Surprised?” I ask with a laugh. “Don’t know why. I’m only a slightly less anxious adult.”

“I disagree with that,” Cancassi snorts. They groan and slowly sink into the water, resting their head back against the lip of the pool. “You’re one of the bravest people I know.” 

I flush at that, and Cancassi smiles before beckoning me in with a long finger. “Bath’s big enough for two people - I’ve tested it.”

I don’t need to be asked twice. I strip out of my clothes to join them. Winter’s only gotten colder, and I’ll soak till I’m wrinkly to avoid going out into it. I slide into the space behind them and scoot my legs on either side of them. 

I reach up behind me and grab the mug before offering it to them again. Cancassi takes it with a word of thanks and settles comfortably against my chest. “Fearing the dark is such an odd concept to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Maeve can see in the dark,” they say. “We lose color, but the details are just as sharp. Our most active hours happen under the stars.”

“I’d wondered about that,” I say, glad to have the theory finally confirmed. “You sleep, what, five hours or so?”

Cancassi chuckles. “Someone’s been paying attention,” they say. “It’s true, though. I've learned to be flexible with my sleep schedule living here, but I usually go to sleep after second bell. Five hours is about average, though Galiva’s tincture seems to push me closer to six.”

I start to finger comb their hair and hear their contented little sigh as they take another sip from their mug. “I’ve always wondered how much I’d get done if I didn’t have to sleep so much,” I say. “Those extra hours must be nice. And just having some time to yourself at night? That sounds great.”

Cancassi shrugs. “Most of the time it is,” they say. “Nights have gotten… harder, recently. I keep walking the walls. I know we’re locked down, but it helps me feel better.”

I slide my arms around their waist. “I’m sorry.”

Cancassi sinks into my arms with a sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

We fall quiet for a long moment, lulled by the warmth of the water and each other’s company. I wash their hair and lean them back to rinse it, gently combing through the wet strands with my fingers until I get the tangles out. We stay in a little longer as Cancassi sips at their mug. Once it’s empty, they set it on the side of the pool and lean back to grab the little bottle from the table. 

“Thank you for doing this,” they say. “I just think that everything else will come a little easier if I could just get a good day’s sleep.”

I pull their wet hair away to kiss the back of their neck. “That’s the hope. How do you feel?” 

Cancassi gives a small laugh. “Exhausted,” they admit. They roll the little bottle between their long fingers. “Doesn’t seem fair that you’ll be sitting here doing nothing for the better part of the day.”

“I don’t mind - really,” I say. “I’ll be fine.”

Cancassi hums thoughtfully. They seem to be considering something, and I wring the excess water from their hair before they finally get it out. “What if I gave you permission to touch me while I sleep?” 

My hands freeze. “What?”

Cancassi leans back to look up at me, and my breath catches. With their wet hair slicked back, their pointed ears stand out, and the distinctly non-human angles of their face look almost unreal in the shimmering light of the bath. “Don’t worry, you won’t wake me. Galiva knows how to mix a brew. Besides, I think having a gentle hand on me might help keep my dreams on the pleasant side,” they say, the implication heavy in their teasing tone. 

I let out a long breath and lift my wet hand to rub my face. “What kind of touching?” I ask at last.

Cancassi’s grin turns sly as they lean up to whisper it in my ear. The heat of the bath does nothing to hide the blush that floods my face. I know they can feel my cock stir against their back as they lay it out. The idea of it is definitely doing something to me, but it feels like a step too far. Not the mention, the amount of trust Cancassi would be putting in me makes the old casting anxiety ramp back up again. 

“I don’t know, Cass,” I admit. “The whole point is to get you a good night’s sleep, and that seems pretty at odds.”

Cancassi chuckles and leans up to catch my lips. “You can do what you are comfortable with,” they say and give a little shrug. “I won’t know one way or another until I wake up.”

I shiver at the thought of that. “I’ll think about it.”

Cancassi grins pulls the cork from the bottle. “You’ll have plenty of time,” they tease. "If you do, there are a couple of uncharged focuses in my drawer you should use. I’d be curious what manner of spell it will make. You can use whatever else is in there, too.”

I make a noncommittal noise even though my head is suddenly racing with possibilities. I shove the temptation aside. “Maybe once you’re awake.”

“As you wish,” they say before looking distastefully at the little bottle. “On top of everything else, this stuff also tastes terrible.” 

They pour a bit of it into the hollowed out top of the cork and down it like a shot of grain alcohol. They do that once more before they put the cork back in place. I take the bottle from them and return it to the table as Cancassi grabs the lip of the tub and gets to their feet. 

The hot soak does seem to help with their leg. They move a little easier as they slip out of the water. I follow soon after, and Cancassi offers me a towel before wrapping one around their shoulders.

They dry off as they pad, barefooted into their bedroom. I follow them out and blink at the shock of light. While the bathroom only glowed from the bath and ground, their room rests along the outer wall. The glowing magiline sends dancing light all across the room. There’s one glass-paned window that’s been covered by a heavy curtain, but it doesn’t do anything to block the light that emanates from the wall and floor.

Cancassi drops their towel, and my breath catches. Something about the way the light dances over their body makes it hard to pull my eyes away. They turn, and I see the pitted scar that covers their hip and thigh as they sit on the edge of their bed. They stretch their bad leg out in front of them.

“This can’t be helping your sleep,” I say and blink to adjust my eyes to the light.

Cancassi’s grin comes out crooked as they rub the muscles of their thigh. “I’ve started sleeping with a blindfold on,” they admit. “It’s not so bad.”

I doubt that, but I settle on the bed next to them as they grab a comb from the drawer beside their bed. “Can I?” I ask.

“You really are set on pampering me,” they chuckle, but hand the comb over all the same. It’s beautiful - made of a pearly substance that I guess must be some kind of shell. I make sure to handle it carefully as I drag the teeth through their hair. The white locks are already starting to dry, and it’s soft as silk under my fingers. Cancassi lets out a contented little sound. 

“Do you know how to braid?” they ask.

“Afraid not.”

“Here.” They take the comb from me and use it to split their hair into three more or less even sections. It’s obvious they’ve had a lot of practice, as they make quick work of twining the three pieces together. It’s nothing near as elaborate as what they usually do, but I make sure to pay attention to how they do it. Once their hair is half-braided, they hand the pieces to me. I finish the pattern, twining the three strands over one another until I reach the end. It’s not as neat or even as the plaits Cancassi made, but it’s close enough. I tie the end with the little strip of leather they hand back to me. 

“Not bad for a first timer,” they say and turn to press a gentle kiss against my lips. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

Cancassi yawns and scoots under the covers. “You’ve already done more than enough.”

I smile and scoot in next to them, gently rubbing their hip, feeling the rough skin of their scar. They let out an appreciative groan as their head falls against the pillow. Already I can see their eyes starting to droop. “That stuff must hit pretty fast.”

“You were pretty effective at softening me up,” they say. “Maybe there’s something to your mother’s warm milk trick.”

“It sure used to work on me,” I say and get comfortable. Their bed is big enough to comfortably fit both of us without feeling like we’re going to fall off, which is more than I can say for either mine or Olbric’s. Moving to the divination tower had warranted me a bigger bed and room, but it’s still better equipped for one, while this one seems like it’s meant for a couple.

Cancassi smiles, and their copper eyes are heavily lidded as they move to rest against my chest. I can see the tincture doing its job, but they seem at ease. “Tell me about her,” they request quietly.

I try to smile, but it feels forced. “Who, my mother? There’s not much to tell, really,” I admit. “She left when I was just a kid.” 

No explanation, no warning. Just a note telling my da not to come looking for her. I had just turned six. In that naive way kids think, I was convinced it was something I had done that drove her away. I don’t want to give Cancassi those bad memories to fall asleep to, so I focus on the good things I can remember.

“She had the most beautiful green eyes,” I say as I stroke my hand down Cancassi’s hair. “And a voice that could sing birds onto her finger. She had a plant journal that she kept. Used it to teach me my letters, though her cramped little script was hard to make out. Everything she planted grew like you wouldn’t believe.”

Cancassi’s eyes slide closed as they listen to me, a small smile on their face. “She sounds lovely,” they murmur. 

I wish I really knew. It feels like I’m talking about a stranger. Instead, I lean down to kiss the tip of their nose. I find the blindfold resting on their bedside table and drape it over their eyes before tying it gently behind their head. “Sleep good, Cass. I’ll be right here.”

They settle in as I idly stroke my fingers down their neck and doodle around their long, pointed ears. Cancassi shivers under the touch, but the drag of sleep comes quick to pull them under. They weren’t joking about Galiva’s tincture. By the time second bell rings, they’re fast asleep, breathing deep and heavy.

For a little bit, I just watch them. Their face is relaxed, one long fingered hand curled by their cheek, lips slightly parted. Some folks aren’t pretty sleepers, but Cancassi doesn’t have that problem. In the silvery glow of the Crux, they look unreal, like something out of one of the stories I remember my mother telling me to lull me to sleep. A breathing statue.

I doze a little, lulled by the quiet room, but the light from the walls makes sleeping hard. I’m glad that Cancassi has the blindfold. For someone who spends most of their awake time during the night, I doubt the light is helping their already troubled sleep. 

Just as Cancassi thought I would, I start to get bored. I wish I had brought a book or something to keep me occupied. With Cancassi sound asleep against me, I don’t want to move and disturb them. 

Instead, I pull the covers up for just a second to get a look at all of them. My gaze travels from the small swell of their breasts to the soft cock resting between their slender legs. I’m more tempted by the sight than I thought I'd be. It feels like taking advantage, but Cancassi _did_ give me explicit permission.

Even so, I can't shake the fact that they're completely unable to stop. It's a level of control that rivals the silver, but somehow, this feels even more invasive, more… taboo. And godsdamn, if it’s not heating me up. 

Maybe just a little touch. 

I reach out and tentatively give their nipple a little tug. Cancassi doesn't so much as stir though my cock certainly does. Having them so exposed and vulnerable is a heady feeling, and I can’t help but grab onto the little mound and give it a gentle squeeze. I watch Cancassi’s face for a reaction, but they’re in it deep. 

Well, apparently I’m not going to wake them up.

I slide out from under Cancassi’s cheek and settle them onto a pillow, carefully guiding them to lay on their back. I brush a stray lock of white hair behind their ear. All the while, their breathing remains deep and even. I can’t stop a quiet chuckle. “Godsdamn but you’re beautiful.”

I push myself up to kneel over them as I carefully pull the blanket away. Their chest rises and falls with long, deep breaths, and I can’t help but trail my down down from their collar to their stomach. Their skin is warm under my fingers, but I notice a shiver of gooseflesh rise under my touch. They let out a deep sigh, and I hope that whatever dreams they’re having are good ones.

I wonder if I can’t make them better.

I lean down and press my lips against theirs in a chaste kiss. Cancassi’s lips are soft and pliant, and I linger there for a moment longer before moving to their neck. I’m rewarded with another deep sigh, and I smile against their skin as I trail my lips down their collar to their chest. 

I find one of their nipples and pull it into my mouth, sucking gently. I tease it with my tongue and don’t pull away until it’s a darker shade of pink. It’d be silly to leave them as an unmatched pair, so I do the same to the other one, feeling the point harden under my attentions.

Ever since meeting them, I’ve had a bit of fascination with Cancassi’s body. Equal parts curious and jealous that they can experience sex whichever way they please. And though I’ve seen them naked countless times, I haven’t had a chance to explore them like this. 

I pepper gentle kisses down their chest and stomach before I ease their legs apart. Their cock lays right where a clit would be on a human woman, and though it’s smaller than mine, it’s perfectly shaped. It rests lip and uncut, haloed by a curly tuft of white hair. I pull back their foreskin to expose the perfectly pink head. As I do, Cancassi shifts their hips a little as they let out a long breath.

I freeze, afraid of waking them, but their breathing still remains deep and heavy. The blindfold keeps their eyes covered, but their face is still relaxed in sleep. Even so, I leave their cock be and explore a little lower instead. 

The slit between their legs is soft and hairless, and I run my fingers down the sensitive skin, just barely pushing through their folds. I tease their entrance before sliding my finger in, feeling how wet they are. Their cock twitches and starts to swell. Apparently their dreams must be getting pretty good. 

Fuck it's a tempting sight. They’re splayed out, completely exposed. A hint of blush colors their beautiful face. It's lewd, but I can't help but spread their legs a little further, cocking their knees out to tip it into obscene.

"Fucking hell.” I have to remind myself that Cancassi gave me permission to do this. It feels wrong to be enjoying it, but I definitely am. My cock throbs, but I don’t want to rush it. I’ve got all afternoon.

I pull my finger free and reach for the bedside drawer. The focuses are in there, along with a few glass toys that make me raise my eyebrow. Cancassi had said that I could use whatever I found in there, but that seems like a step too far. Instead, I take the focuses and slide four of them down Cancassi’s long fingers.

I slide back down to settle between their legs again. I scoot close and grip under their hips to angle them up. I don’t move them much, and I do my best not to jostle them, but I don’t need to worry. Cancassi is limp, drugged so deep into sleep I don't think I could wake them if I tried. 

I use that to my advantage as I run a long lick down their slit. They taste slightly sweet, and I can't stop a moan as I dip my tongue into them. I take my time to explore them, tongue working deeper as I suck at their folds until my jaw starts to ache. 

Cancassi lets out a breathy little moan, and I freeze, mouth still closed over their slit. I look up to see that their blindfold has come a little askew, showing one still-closed eye, but their cheeks are flushed with color, lips parted.

It takes me a second to muster the willpower to pull my mouth away. Cancassi’s whimpering little moan nearly pulls me right back, but I give them a second to cool down, though to be honest, I need it too. I drag my fingers through my hair, feeling the heat surge to my own face as I see Cancassi’s cock fully erect and lying against their stomach. I haven’t really touched it, so it makes me wonder if it’s something I’m doing that’s causing it to perk up, or if Cancassi’s dreams have taken a nice route. 

Either way, I take advantage of it as I lean down and pull their cock into my mouth. I explore the length of them with the same attention I gave their slit. I slide my mouth over them before swallowing them to the root. Even in sleep, their length twitches, and I hear their breath hitch as I lavish the attention on.

When I finally pull away, their cock is hard and red, a bead of liquid leaking from the tip. The blindfold has slipped the rest of the way off, and as I see their flushed face, my stomach drops. It feels like taking advantage. It feels wrong. But Cancassi _said_ I could, and godsdamn it, I want to. 

I war with myself, and I’m not sure if I’ve won or lost when I wind up back between Cancassi’s legs again. I line my hard cock up with their dripping slit before I ease in. Cancassi doesn’t so much as twitch as I bury myself fully into their wet heat. 

I pull back before I thrust in again, rolling my hips to reach deeper. Their cunt is tight and slick around my length. I move slow, not wanting to jostle them, and it’s a test of my control not to fuck them into the bed. Instead, I hike up one of Cancassi's legs and gently maneuver them onto their side. The position allows me to sheath my cock deep inside of them. 

I'm in no hurry, but the feel of Cancassi's willing slit quickly starts to undo me. I reach around to grab Cancassi’s cock, because even if they’re asleep, they deserve to get off for what they’re doing to me. I start to speed up, stroking their length in time with my thrusts. Cancassi lets out a quiet groan, and I feel their cock twitch before it erupts, shooting ribbons of white onto their chest and across their sheets. 

I bury my head against their leg as my own release catches up with me. I moan and bury myself deep as I cum. I haven’t cast since before the execution, and it feels like my balls empty before I’m through. When I pull out, a trickle of my own seed follows me. The haze of pleasure starts to wear off, and I swear as I stare at the mess I’ve made.

I want nothing more than to clean them up, but Cancassi had been specific about that. "I want to be able to see what you've done with me," they had whispered. I shiver as my cum leaks out of them and onto the bed below their splayed legs. 

I’d left their beside drawer open, and the girthy plug inside of it catches my attention. They want to see what I've done? Guess I'll make sure to save it for them. I take the plug and ease it into their slit until it settles into place, sealing the rest of my seed inside of them. 

I'm flushed and hot when I finish and look down at Cancassi with wide eyes. Through it all, they're still sleeping soundly. They still look unreal, but now it’s like a doll that’s been used and dirtied. 

Then it hits me. Guilt drops like a cold stone into my stomach. I settle in beside them as I try to calm myself down, burying my head in my hands. It feels like I’m dropping, but I’ve never had it happen while casting. I slide close to Cancassi and bury my face against their neck, taking comfort in their steady, even breathing. I’m not sure how long it lasts, but for the duration of it, I’m so overwhelmed with guilt for using Cancassi like this that it nearly paralyzes me. 

I ride it out alone, wishing that Cancassi were awake. I hear their musical voice in my head, berating me for being silly. It helps some. I manage to close my eyes, and in spite of the shimmer of light, I doze again. 

I wake to the midday bell, feeling a little better. I smile when I find Cancassi still sleeping soundly. More of their hair has come loose from my shoddy braid. I push it away from their face even as I feel myself start to stir again. Godsdamn idiot cock. 

I try to think about anything else for a while. I get up to piss and take a few laps around their room, though it starts to feel like pacing real quick. All the while, my eyes keep traveling back to Cancassi. They’re laying on their side, but between their folded legs, I can see the end of the plug nestled in their slit.

Godsdamnit. 

I slide back into the bed behind them, pressing my chest against their back even as my hand travels down to the base of the plug. I shouldn’t, but the temptation is too much to resist. I grab the base of the plug and tease it out of them before gliding it back in. All the while Cancassi doesn’t so much as stir. _Godsdamit_ but that’s hot.

I don’t give myself a change to second guess. I pull the plug out, but quickly replace it with my hard cock. Cancassi is still slick from the inside out, and I moan as I wrap my arm around their waist before driving my cock into them again. It's a quick, desperate rut. The guilt doesn’t even wait for me to finish as I use their slit for my pleasure, but when I cum, I swear I give just as much as I had the first time. Cancassi’s slit is soaked with me when I pull out, and I quickly slide the plug back into them to keep it all there. 

Cancassi said they wanted to see how I used them, and I guess I’ve committed to painting a good picture. The guilt stays with me as I pull a blanket up to cover them again. I trail my fingers idly over their body as I try to reassure myself that this was okay. It feels like I’m lying to myself, but my cock seems to have finally gotten it’s fill because it doesn’t stir again. 

I think I must doze again, because the next time I come around, Cancassi is stirring. I blink to attention and watch as Cancassi rolls onto their back and stretches with a pleased little groan. Their copper eyes blink open before finding me. They give a sleepy smile.

“Good morning,” I say quietly. “Or evening, I guess.”

Cancassi chuckles and stretches again before they freeze. They shift their hips to the left and right before raising an eyebrow at me. “Did you put something in me?” they ask.

I flush hot red, my stomach dropping straight into my feet. “I-it was in your drawer,” I say, but it sounds like a weak answer. I knew I was overstepping. I _knew_ this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have done it. 

Cancassi wriggles their hips and bites their bottom lip, the haze of sleep shifting to something else. They roll onto their stomach, a long-fingered hand sliding between their legs to touch the base of the plug. Then, they move their fingers a little further back. “You didn’t use my other hole.”

My mouth goes dry. “No.”

Cancassi gives a sleepy hum and leisurely pulls their legs under them to push their ass up into the air. “I think you better dirty that one, too.”

 _Fucking hell_ if that doesn’t make my cock shoot straight back to attention. The guilt vanishes like fog under the morning sun. “Are you sure?”

Cancassi still seems a little groggy from the tincture, but their golden eyes smoulder as they focus on me. “Positive.”

I swear and grab the little bottle of lotion from the bedside drawer. Cancassi spreads their legs wide in offering even as their long fingers tug at the plug that keeps their slit blocked. The sight of them spread wide and plugged up wrings a desperate groan out of me. 

I tease their hole with my fingers, thrusting gently to open them up. They relax around my fingers, moaning as I spread them. I pull my fingers away before I slick my cock and settle behind them. I push into them gently, and Cancassi moans. Godsdamn I missed that musical little sound. Their long fingers fist in the blankets under them, and I reach around to grab their cock as I thrust into their willing body.

“Dom,” they moan and roll their hips back to meet my thrusts. I swear and start to speed up. While they were sleeping, I held back, but not anymore. Now, I help them greet the evening with a good, hard thrust.

Cancassi cries out in pleasure as I spear them deep. Their long fingers grab the end of the plug, and they start to fuck themself with it even as I drive into them. I can feel every time they pull the plug out, and I hear the slick sound every time they push it back in. I feel my end coming on quick, but I want to bring them over first.

My lotion slicked hand strokes over their cock, and when I rub my thumb over the pink head, I feel Cancassi tense. “Yes,” they moan. “Fuck, don’t stop.” 

I wouldn’t dare. 

It only takes a few more strokes before Cancassi’s whole body tenses. They plunge the plug deep as I thrust in hard. Cancassi shouts into the mattress as they cum, their cock erupting over their already soiled sheets. I moan as I follow them over the edge into bliss, emptying myself inside of them once again.

Cancassi moans, long and low as they slump against the bed. I wait a moment longer before I ease out of them, giving their ass a squeeze as I do. “Fucking hell, Cass.” 

They lay in their own mess, and when they look back at me, I notice that the bags under their copper eyes have faded some. “Glad you took me up on my offer,” they say. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

I give a small, uncertain laugh. “I think so?”

They give me a curious look. “What do you mean?”

I lay on my side to face them, resting my hand on the curve of their waist. “I… think I dropped. For a bit, I felt so guilty that I couldn’t even move. I just… needed to check in with you, and I couldn’t.”

Cancassi’s long fingers come up to stroke my cheek, and I lean into their touch. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t ask you to,” they say. “In fact, I’d say you performed admirably.”

“I felt like a monster,” I admit. You’re sure you’re alright?”

Cancassi chuckles and pulls me into a kiss. “Softie,” they purr. “I’m fine. I promise. I knew I could trust you while I slept or else I never would have offered.”

I smile and kiss them again. “How did you sleep?”

They stretch out, and I see the glisten of their own seed smeared across their chest. “So good,” they groan before relaxing languidly back onto the bed. “Not to mention, it was a nice wakeup on top of it.”

Seeing the perfect contentment on their face is what finally helps me forgive myself. “I’m glad.”

Cancassi reaches up to stroke my cheek. “Thank you, Dominai.”

I smile and turn my head to kiss their palm. “You’re welcome.”

“Will you do me one last favor?”

“Anything.”

They drag their fingers through the cooling seed on their chest. “Draw another bath for me?”

I laugh at that. “Of course.”


	19. Endurance Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai plays some endurance games with Bridgette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday all! Thank you so much for your kind comments on the last chapter. We're getting close to the end! It's probably become obvious that there will be some hanging plot threads, but book 3 is well underway and will address most of them. If you want updates and some sneak peeks, be sure to follow me on Twitter @AletheaFaust!
> 
> This is the longest chapter of this book and is a marathon for poor Dom. You all know what you've gotten into with the BDSM aspects of this story, but mild content warning for fisting and CBT (and I don't mean cognitive behavioral therapy). Hope you enjoy!

The next morning, I head to Arlon’s office with my collar fastened around my neck. He hadn’t called this week off, though I half expected him to. It’s been chaotic to say the least. I haven’t even seen Arlon, Garrett or Bridgette since the announcement Wednesday morning, and I can’t help but wonder if I should have checked in with Arlon before now.

I’m a little nervous. I’m not sure what’s going to happen today, but I have a feeling it’ll go one of two ways today; either I’ll be ignored, or I won’t. I’m not sure which I’m hoping for.

I made sure to grab a fresh cup of kaffa from the kitchens, prepped to Arlon’s liking to start the day right. I reach his office door only to find it closed. I check to be sure my collar’s on straight before I knock.

Arlon’s deep voice answers. “Come in, Dominai.”

I open the door to find him seated behind his desk as usual, but my attention is immediately drawn to the back corner. Garrett is naked and kneeling, his cuffed wrists linked to the rings of his collar. A tight-fitting leather hood has been pulled over the top half of his face, covering his eyes and ears, and he’s got a muzzle gag fastened over his mouth. As I step closer, I see that he’s kneeling on a field of rice.

I tear my eyes away and kneel down by Arlon’s desk to offer him the mug of kaffa. He grabs it without a word and takes a sip. A grin quirks his lips before he runs his hand over my hair. “Good boy.”

I flush at the praise and rest my cheek against his leg. His fingers idly stroke my hair as he reads through the missives on his desk, and it’s only then I realize how much I’ve needed this. The chaos at the execution had rattled me, but not more than seeing Arlon look so beaten down outside of the drawbridge. I scoot a little closer and bury my face against his thigh. 

His hand rests on the back of my neck, a comforting weight. “Are you alright, Dominai?” Gods but he’s learned how to read me.

“Yes, sir,” I say. “I just… want to be sure you are.”

Arlon cups my chin to pull my head up. The bruises have faded to a yellow spot on his cheek. “I won’t lie to you and say that this hasn’t been a trying week,” he says. “But I promise, I’m fine. A few cracked ribs and a twisted knee are nothing for one of Garrett’s spells.”

I lean into his hand and nod. Part of me feels like I should have come to see him sooner, but just like on the road back to the Crux with him and Garrett, I wasn’t sure if my interjection would be welcome. Arlon seems to read my mind and says, “Dom, you’ve done nothing wrong. When I needed you, you were there, and you stepped aside when the situation was beyond your help. The aftermath of… all this is something that Garrett, Bridgette and I had to work out with each other.”

“Did you?" I ask. "Get it worked out, I mean." I cast a glance back at Garrett. I hear his shuddering breaths hiss in and out from behind his gag, and feel a pang of sympathy. I know how bad those little grains hurt.

Arlon leans back in his chair, a serene smile spreading across his face. “We did.”

I want to know more, but it doesn't feel like my place to dig any deeper. "I'm glad."

"Me, too." He leans down to press a chaste kiss to the top of my head, and I flush with pleasure. His fingers continue to stroke through my hair even as he turns his attention back to his missives. He seems focused but not agitated, and I settle comfortably into my position as an afterthought. I'm just glad to see him acting like himself again.

“Do you have any spell sheets for me?” Arlon asks at last, breaking the near-silence. He picks up the small pile on his desk, and I’m not surprised that this was a slow casting week. I hand over the sheets for the spells I cast with Alix and Cancassi as he pulls the log book over from the corner of his desk. 

He takes my spell sheets without a word and marks the number of focuses into the log. Then he must read the details. “You cast with Alix?”

“Yes, sir.”

Arlon blinks down at me, surprise plain on his face. “How did it go?” 

“Real well,” I say with a smile. Since we cast, Alix has seemed more relaxed when I’ve seen him - and I’ve seen him far more often at meals and in the common areas. Not to mention, he’s been hanging around with Orabelle more often than not. “He needed it.”

I find one of the castings we made and pull it off my necklace. Arlon takes the ring between his fingers and frowns. “Abjuration?” he asks.

“Yes, sir.” Not straight abjuration though. I’ve started to get the hang of feeling out spells, but this one has something that I can’t quiet place. 

“You got _six castings_ of it?” Arlon asks.

“Yes, sir.”

Arlon hums thoughtfully. “Can I hold onto this for now? I want Bridgette to take a look at it,” Arlon says. “She’s far better at reading spells than I am, and I’m wondering if we can’t use it to supplement the Crux’s abjuration barrier."

I clear my throat and look down. “About that, sir…” 

“Yes?” 

I can almost hear his raised eyebrow. This may be treading on dangerous territory, but Arlon had told me to speak up when I thought I needed to. “How long do you plan to keep the barrier up?” I glance up to see Arlon’s eyebrow inch up a little further before I add, “I-it’s messing with Cancassi’s sleep. The walls of their room are glowing. They’ve started sleeping with a blindfold on.”

Of all the things Arlon must have been expecting me to say, this wasn’t one of them. “Oh.” He blinks and settles back into his chair, a slight frown on his face. He mulls that over for a moment before he asks, “Do you think I’m being overly cautious by keeping the barrier raised?

“Maybe a little bit?” I say, glad that he’s the one who asked first. “Diran’s dangerous, no doubt about that, but I don’t think he’d be foolish enough to try anything now. He just got two of his wizards back, and I don’t think he’s keen to risk losing them again so soon.”

Arlon nods. “What about a more local threat?” he asks. “We aren’t exactly glowing in the eyes of Straetham right now.”

I shrug. “What can regular folks do that the walls and moat can’t stop?” I ask. “You were already planning on having a guard rotation set up. As it is, no one is going out or coming in without us noticing.”

Arlon sighs and leans his head back. “Bridgette thinks I’m being unreasonable by keeping us locked down.”

“Well…”

Arlon scowls. “You think so, too?”

“Maybe a little bit?” I say. “I just think that keeping ourselves locked away like this might make our problems with Straetham worse. I’m from a small town where secrecy leads to suspicion, so why not let folks go out in pairs or more? It’ll remind the folks in town of who we are - patrons of their businesses, part of the community. That we’re just… people.”

“And what if something happens?” Arlon asks. “Whether it be some idiot picking a fight or one of our own acting rash?”

“You have to trust us. Trust that we can handle ourselves.” Arlon’s hand stills on my head. I turn to kiss his palm as I meet his eyes. “I understand your need for control. Especially now, when things feel so out of control, but at some point, you have to loosen your grip a little bit. No one can live with their guard up all the time,” I say. “I’m not saying that your fears are unwarranted, but we all understand the risks. Who else can rebuild the trust that Diran broke but us?”

Arlon looks down at me thoughtfully before he lets out a long sigh. He rubs his eyes, and for the first time since I got here, he glances at Garrett. “You’re right,” he says. “But I’m not dropping the curfew. Folks will need to be back by sundown when the bridge raises.”

“Yes, sir.” It’s a reasonable request, and at least it’s a start. 

“I’ll make the announcement at dinner tonight.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Arlon finishes marking the short stack of spells into the log. “Have you eaten?” he asks.

“No, sir.”

“Go grab us breakfast,” he says. “And grab two extra servings.”

“Yes, sir.” I get to my feet, and head for the door just as Bridgette opens it. That explains the last serving then. 

“Good morning, Dominai,” she says as she steps past me.

“Good morning, ma’am.” Bridgette gives me a curious look as her eyes land on my collar, but I hurry past, feeling my face heat all the same. I go to the mess and gather a tray that I pile with four servings of hot oats, dried fruit and nuts. I check to be sure Thaddius nor anyone else is around to trip me up before I head back, balancing it all carefully. I frown at the door and kick it in a semblance of a knock.

Bridgette opens it without so much as pausing her and Arlon's conversation. "-can stand to stay there a little longer."

"The punishment fit the indiscretion," Arlon says, and as I step into the room, he gently touches Garrett's shoulder. The half-orc lets out a quiet whimper before Arlon helps him to his feet. "Sadism isn't the point of all this."

Bridgette closes the door behind me. "No, I know that," she says. "Doesn’t change the fact you’re being gentle with him."

Arlon chuckles at that and raises an eyebrow. "Me? Gentle?"

Bridgette smirks and says, "Yes, gentle. I’m not denying you’re the perfect caster to help him reground, but at least make your punishments _punishments.”_

Arlon grins and kneels to pick the rice from Garrett’s knees as the half-orc trembles. “I don’t nitpick how you cast,” he says.

“That’s because you’re usually gagged when I cast,” Bridgette says, and I nearly lose my grip on the tray. I set it on Arlon’s desk with more of a clatter than I mean to. 

Arlon chuckles at that and unbuckles the gag to pull out the phallus that’s been filling Garrett’s mouth. The half-orc coughs weakly but otherwise stays silent, and I can’t help but wonder if his ears are plugged as well. My question is answered a moment later when Arlon pushes Garrett back to the ground and holds a bowl of food up under his nose. Arlon sets the bowl down in front of him before pushing his head towards it. Garrett blindly seeks it out before he obediently starts to eat. With his ass up, I can see the base of the plug that’s settled inside of him.

“Gods know once Garrett’s in a better place, I’ll be grateful to give the reins over to you for a bit,” Arlon mutters. "Though for now, I'm just glad you're speaking to me again." 

I blink in surprise, but keep my eyes down as a lot of things fall into place. I had wondered who Arlon went to when the responsibilities he carried got too heavy, and it seems as if I’ve found the answer in Bridgette. 

Bridgette comes up behind him and drapes her arms over his shoulders before planting a kiss against his neck. "I'm glad to be speaking to you again," she murmurs. "It was hard saying angry for a whole month, even if you deserved it."

She tilts his head back to kiss him, and I look away with a grin. Whatever tension they started the week with seems to have been resolved. Arlon lets out a contented little sigh before he grabs a bowl to offer her.

Then he sets mine on the floor at his feet, and I flush hot. Having Bridgette here makes me all the more aware there’s no way to eat without making a mess of myself. But of course, that’s the point. I steel myself and kneel over it before I dig in. At least I can brace myself with my hands, unlike Garrett, who’s resting with his elbows against the stone. 

“We’ve got a unique opportunity with Dominai here today,” Arlon says as he grabs his own bowl. “How would you like to use it? He’s great stress relief.”

Heat shoots straight to my groin as Bridgette chuckles. “Since my husband’s claimed you as his caster for the time, I think it’s only fair that you lend me your fuckboy,” she says matter-of-factly. I flush straight to the tips of my ears.

“Oh you do, do you?” Arlon asks, amusement coloring his tone. I finish my breakfast and sit back with my head lowered. Arlon cups my chin and wipes my face clean with a damp cloth. “What would you say to that, Dominai? Speak freely.”

I swallow and look between the two of them with wide eyes. Bridgette watches me from her perch on the corner of Arlon’s desk. She grins at me over her breakfast and gives me a wink that makes my stomach squirm with anticipation. I’m not opposed to being passed around, but I don’t really know Bridgette. I look at Arlon and ask, “Will you be there, sir?”

Arlon grins at me and there’s a hint of mischief in it. “Afraid of Bridgette?” he asks. “Good. You probably should be. But don’t worry Dominai, I’ll be there to monitor and more.”

The promise in his voice makes me shiver. I know I can trust Arlon to look out for me. “Then I’m alright with it.”

#

Arlon orders me down to the dungeon to wait for him and Bridgette. He has me take Garrett with me, and I’m careful as I guide him down the stairs by a leash attached to his collar. I help him on the last step, steadying him with a hand. He tenses as soon as I touch him, and I realize how much different I must feel from Arlon. Garrett makes a distressed noise, but even though he’s not gagged, he doesn’t speak. 

“It’s alright,” I murmur, though I know he can’t hear me. Seems cruel to let him think a stranger is touching him after all he’s been through. I’m probably not supposed to, but I pull up the corner of his mask until I uncover one of his eyes. Garrett focuses on me before he gives a small smile. I press a chaste kiss to his cheek and pull the hood back down before I lead him over to the mat. 

I guide him to kneel and strip my clothes and necklace off to store on a chair in the corner. I kneel next to him, staying close enough that my shoulders brush his. It’s not just for his comfort, either. It’s cold down here, and Garrett runs even hotter than Arlon does. His grey skin feels as nice as a sun-warmed rock as I settle comfortably against him. 

Garrett doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he leans against me, scooting until his chin rests on top of my head. I smile and put my head against his shoulder. Guess that whatever we’re in for today, we’re in it together.

I’m not sure how long we’re left waiting, but it’s enough that my stomach jumps at every little noise. I keep my ears tuned to the stairs, but my knees are aching by the time I finally hear someone coming down them. I look up, and Garrett must feel it because he quickly sits back on his haunches and lowers his head demurely. I take his queue and do the same.

Bridgette comes down first, her boots clicking across the floor. “Look at that, Arlon,” she says. “They’re already a good influence on one another.”

I flush but keep my head lowered even as I hear Arlon’s heavier footsteps follow her. “I told you, I think today will be a good lesson for Dominai,” he says. “He’s still in his first year, so I’ve been rather lenient with him.”

Bridgette tsks dramatically. “You’re training bad habits into him,” she says. “Letting him lean against your leg like he’s some pet.”

Arlon’s chuckle makes goosebumps shiver over my skin. “I like having a lap hound.”

“Even lap hounds should be trained.” Then Bridgette’s shiny black boot appears on the ground in front of me. Her cool hand strokes my face before she grabs my chin and makes me look up. 

She’s pulled her silver hair back, exposing her long, pale neck. She’s changed clothes, too. When she first came into Arlon’s office, she had been wearing a skirt and bodice, but now she’s got on tight pants that hug her hips and black leather boots that nearly reach her knees. A deep cut shirt exposes her cleavage, but the corset she’s wearing pushes them into tempting mounds that I’m having a hard time ignoring. In her right hand, she holds a leather crop.

Fear sings through my veins as she holds my chin tight, forcing me to meet her eyes. She tilts my head to each side before she pulls my lips back to examine my teeth. “Open,” she orders, and I’m quick to obey. She pushes two fingers into my mouth, and I nearly choke in surprise as she examines my back teeth as well.

She pulls away and steps back, crop at the ready. “Stand up.” I scramble to my feet and stand straight, heart thudding. I don’t know what kind of caster she is yet, but it’s a thrill to play the game and find out. 

Bridgette takes a slow step around me, examining me like an animal on the auction block at the summer fair. Her hands are cool where they trail over my bare skin. Fingers run from my chest, over my hip and around to my back before she squeezes my ass roughly. I jump in surprise, but I feel the bite of her nails as she tightens her grip. I force myself to hold still, and only then does she let go. 

“Spread your legs,” she orders. “Arms behind your neck.”

I step out a shoulder’s length, but her foot catches mine, kicking my legs open further. I stumble a little before I settle into the wide-legged stance. I clasp my hands behind my neck, but a sharp slap from the crop makes me hold my elbows out, leaving me exposed to her inspection.

She takes her time, leaving no inch of me unexamined. Her hands squeeze my calves and thighs before feeling the muscles of my arms. Her fingers move to my chest, tracing the outline of my muscles before her hand taps against my stomach hard enough to knock some of the air out of me. I let out a surprised “oof” and take a half step back, but she grabs my testicles. 

I yelp like a kicked dog, but freeze, fear and anticipation rooting me to the spot. Gradually, she loosens her grip, but doesn’t let go. Instead, she rolls my balls between her fingers, examining them just as thoroughly as she has the rest of me. I can’t stop a whimper as she cups my crotch roughly, and I barely stave off the instinct to snap my legs together to protect my sensitive parts. 

Her grip gentles a little bit as she palms my soft cock. I’ve been nervous before with Arlon, but Bridgette strikes a different kind of fear into me. My idiot cock doesn’t seem nearly as afraid, because it starts to perk up as Bridgette teases it. A bit of lotion from the bottle in her pocket slicks my length, and I groan as my cock swells. She seems intent on getting me hard, though I’m a little afraid of what she’ll do to it when it does.

“Hmm.” She doesn’t sound impressed. I flush hot.

“What? He’s not to your standards?" Arlon asks. It's only then I realize Arlon's moved across the room. I'm a little surprised. Not much distracts me from Arlon when I’m wearing his collar around my neck, but I'd been too distracted to notice him move. He sits in the comfortable chair in the corner with Garrett kneeling at his feet. Arlon gently strokes a hand over his hooded head as he watches us.

Bridgette shrugs. “Nice build, but he’s a little scrawny for my taste,” she says noncommittally. “Average cock, though I suppose that’s not what you use him for. His ass, on the other hand, is lovely.”

A sharp crack snaps against my left cheek. “Bend over,” she orders. “Spread yourself.”

I flush even hotter, though I do as I’m told. I fold at the waist, but don’t dare pull my legs together. I grab my cheeks and spread them for her only to flinch when her cold hand rests against the small of my back. She circles around me again, and I follow the click of her boots - the only part of her I can see in this position.

She settles behind me before her slicked fingers prod at me. I bite my lip in anticipation, and she presses two fingers into me. I’ve been casting all this week, and the sudden stretch makes me gasp. Gooseflesh prickles over my skin as she finds that spot inside of me. I can’t stop a quiet moan. 

The hum she makes this time seems a little more intrigued. Her fingers scissor as she spreads me wide. “Well, you’ve certainly trained his hole,” Bridgette says.

Arlon chuckles. “You have no idea.”

“Dirty old man,” Bridgette mutters, though I can hear the smirk in her voice. She pulls her fingers from me before slapping my ass again. “Straighten up.”

I do and am grateful for anything to make me feel less exposed. I feel stripped raw under her scrutiny, breathless and trembling already. Bridgette circles in front of me, wiping lotion from her fingers before she grabs my chin. She’s shorter than me by a good couple of inches, but I didn’t really notice until she drags me down to catch my lips in a bruising kiss. Her tongue plunders my mouth, and when she pulls away, I’m left reeling. 

“Not a bad mouth, either,” she says. “He’s really the one you’re considering?”

“He’s a very promising wizard,” Arlon says. “I think he has it in him.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I bite my lip. Considering for what? I don’t get a chance to ask.

Bridgette hooks a finger through my collar to get my attention. “Kneel,” she orders. “Don’t you dare close those legs. Keep yourself spread, fuckboy.”

I do as ordered and kneel in the center of the mat, knees spread out in a v. I hear the click of her boots retreat and the groan of one of the cabinet doors opening. She returns a moment later, and ropes glide over my wrists as she guides them behind my back. She ties my wrists before she weaves the rope up my forearms. She does the same around my biceps before pulling the rope snug. It tugs my shoulders in a way that would have been impossible before Galiva fixed my arm. Even now, it’s a challenging tie, though I know I can handle it. I draw in a deep breath and let it out slow as I relax into it. 

“He does make a pretty picture,” she admits. “Ropes suit you, Dominai.”

I’m not sure what to say to that, so I stay quiet as she circles in front of me. One of her shiny shoes nudges at my balls, and I barely stop myself from slamming my legs closed. “Let’s see how he handles a little pain.” 

I bite my lip as she nudges out one of my testicles. She positions it just so before she starts to put a little weight onto it. Pain sings from my crotch, like a punch to the gut in slow motion. I whimper, but still don’t close my legs.

“He’s never done this before, Bri,” Arlon says, a hint of warning in his voice.

Bridgette immediately lets up. A gentle hand runs through my hair as I sag in relief. “Such a softie,” she chuckles. She strokes my cheek and tilts my head up to look at her. “I want to play a game with you, Dominai,” she says. “I want to test your endurance. So, when the pain is at a tolerable level, I want you to say ‘blue.’ If it’s getting to be too much, say ‘black.’ If you say stop, then we stop. Do you understand?”

I let out a long breath, already trembling. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good. I have a feeling you’re going to surprise me,” she purrs. “I hope you will. On your feet.”

I do as asked, though it’s harder now with my arms bound behind me, and my legs turned to water. I manage it and watch Bridgette go to the corner of the room to turn one of the winches. There’s a clink of metal as a chain lowers from the ceiling. 

Bridgette comes back with a long wooden pole and a couple lengths of rope. She positions me under the chain before she takes my bound arms and ties my wrists to the chain. She moves to my legs next, spreading them wide before tying each ankle to the ends of the pole to keep me spread. Once she’s finished, she returns to the corner, and I jump when I hear the loud click of the winch. It clatters, and I feel the chain start to retreat back into the ceiling, taking my arms with it.

I’m bent over at the waist, my arms stretched up behind me. It’s a stress position, and hard to maintain by design. My shoulders protest the angle. She’s put me just enough off balance with the spreader bar that moving is risky without toppling over.

Then her hands are on me again, stroking up between my spread legs. I moan and am rewarded with her quiet chuckle. “Wanton little fuckboy,” she purrs. “You like it when your hole is exposed, don’t you? Just begging for someone to fill it.”

I don’t know if she’s expecting an answer, but then she slaps my ass hard. I jerk in surprise. “Yes ma’am!”

“Thought so.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and it makes heat rush to my face. “Don’t worry, we’ll test your hole, too.”

I shudder at the promise of that, though I wonder what I have to get through first. “Yes ma’am.”

The click of her shoes retreat once more before I hear her open the cabinet. When she comes back to me, she grabs my balls without warning. I flinch away, though I don’t have anywhere to go. Honestly, it’s the most gentle she’s been all day. 

Cool leather wraps around the base of my testicles, and bound as I am, I can watch her upside down. The leather is shaped almost like a tent, covering my balls even as it tugs them down. Bridgette tightens the buckle on the leather, and I groan as it pinches a little. It’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. She tightens it a little snugger before she fastens the buckle and leaves it be.

I groan miserably as my balls are squeezed down by the device. Three little chains hang in even intervals from the leather tent and come to a point below me. Then, I see Bridgette pull out a small bucket with a hook for a handle. 

"We're going to see how much weight you can carry," she says before she hangs the little bucket into the chains. I moan as the weight of it stretches my balls down further. Every small shift makes the bucket sway between my legs.

I feel the throb of blood to my testicles, but it only gets worse when Bridgette drops a stone into the bucket. I groan and let my head hang, eyes sliding closed as I settle into conspace. It hurts, but it’s a dull sort of pain, a throbbing ache very different from evocation I’ve cast in the past. 

But then I realize - there are no focuses. This isn’t even a _spell._ This is a test. 

Another rock plunks into the bucket, and I moan. “Blue?” Bridgette asks.

I have to think about it for a second. Settle into the painful weight of the new addition. “Yes, ma’am. Barely.”

Bridgette hums thoughtfully. “Good boy,” she says as she walks in front of me. She grabs my chin and makes me look up - no easy thing to do in the position I’m tied. I blink hazily up at her. A gold tooth glints in the corner of her mouth as she smiles down at me. She holds me there, watching my face as she drops another rock into the bucket.

I cry out as my balls are tugged down further, painfully stretched away from me. “Black,” I whimper, at the very limit of my tolerance. My legs are shaking from the strain of the position and the ache between my legs.

“Good,” she says as she comes around behind me. “But I said I was going to test your hole too, didn’t I?”

I can’t stop a moan and clench in anticipation. Anything to take the edge off of this. “Please, ma’am.” It’s a risk, but I get the feeling Bridgette is the type who likes to reduce people to begging.

“Hmm,” she says as her fingers trail over my ass. Then she reaches down and gets the bucket swaying with a gentle push. I moan miserably as my legs shake harder. I try to countershift my hips to get it to stop, but it still seems to take forever. “Tell me how you’d like me to stretch your hole. What is it you like?”

I purse my lips, a little whimper escaping me. “A phallus, a plug, fingers - anything ma’am, please,” I beg, my voice shaking.

“Anything?”.Her voice is a quiet purr by my ear. 

“Yes, ma’am, please!” The second it leaves my mouth, I have a feeling I’m going to regret saying it.

Bridgette chuckles. “I’ll give him this, Arlon,” she says. “You certainly did pick an eager little fuckboy.”

She puts a hand on my back before cold lotion lands on my hole. I gasp in surprise, but she doesn’t give me a second to even warm it before she presses two fingers back into me. I moan my gratitude as she rakes over that spot inside of me with each deep twist of her fingers. Every thrust pushes my hips a little, setting the bucket swinging again, tugging painfully at my testicles. At least now I have something to distract me. 

A third finger pushes into me, and I moan at the stretch. She twists deep before her fingers spread me open. The little ring of muscle loosens to let her do it before a _fourth_ finger slides in beside its fellows. “Oh gods.” The words rattle out of me as Bridgette thrusts slow, stretching me wide.

“What do you think boy, can you take my fist?” she growls, heat layering her voice now.

I whimper and feel her fingers start their slow drag out of me before she thrusts them in deeper, past the second knuckle and touching on the third. I raise my head with a weak cry and see Arlon’s smoldering gaze watching me. I look at him pleadingly, and a slow, sadistic smile spreads across his face. 

“He can take it,” he says. “That, I can promise.”

Bridgette slides out just a little, but when she pushes in again, I feel her thumb bundled in with the rest of her fingers. I shout as she spreads her fingers at once, gaping my ass easily. “How does that feel, boy?” Bridgette asks. “Do you like having your hole loosened?”

“O-oh gods,” I gasp, words failing me as her thumb presses straight against that spot inside of me. “Ma’am please, I’m so close.”

“Oh, that’s another thing,” Arlon says, like he's just remembered. “He has the most sensitive prostate of anyone I’ve ever cast with. You can work him to an internal orgasm without even touching his cock.”

“Oh really?” Bridgette says before she thrusts deep, her last knuckles pushing past the tight ring of muscle. I feel stuffed full, fit to bursting. I shout as I try to wiggle my hips for any relief, but it only makes the bucket sway more. But Bridgette’s got a hold of me from the inside out, and I can’t move far. “That’s another point in your favor, boy.”

She starts to thrust shallowly, never pulling out enough to free her knuckles. I scream as her thumb twists and drags over that spot inside of me, but with the weights tugging my balls down, my orgasm is just out of reach. I wail miserably, the pleasure becoming a torment. I’m spread open, broken apart by her, and the only thing I can do is beg.

“Ma’am, _please!_ Gods, please, _please_ let me cum.” The stretch of her hand, the tug of the weights. It’s too much. Pain and pleasure collide inside of me, breaking me in between them. I ache with need, but then her hand pulls free of me. I wail, the pleasure and torment turning my voice to a hoarse rasp. “No! No ma’am, please don’t stop.”

“Oh sweet thing,” she murmurs, her voice a mockery of sympathy. She circles around and cups my chin, lifting my face so I can look up at her. “I don’t let my fuckboys cum until I do.”

I wail miserably but she drops my head, leaving me to my torment. My balls and ass ache, nerves thrumming with unfulfilled need. I don’t know what I’ll do if she leaves me like this. Don’t think I can stand it. My legs threaten to fold, but the chain keeps me upright, unable to even budge. 

Then the weight around my aching testicles is lifted, and I moan with relief. Blood throbs as Bridgette unclasps the leather tent. When she touches my balls, I shout and buck into her hand. I’m so sensitive that the gentle touch feels like an overload of sensation.

Bridgette chuckles and pulls her hand away. “That’s what I like to see,” she says. “I love it when a fuckboy embraces his role.” She comes behind me and detaches the chain from my arms letting them fall, but she doesn’t touch the ropes that keeps them bound behind my back. She leans down and frees me from the spreader bar a second later before hooking a finger through my collar.

She yanks me towards Arlon, and for a second, my chest swells with hope. Maybe she’ll give me back to him? But then she stops me with a hand before she whispers something in Arlon’s ear. 

Arlon chuckles and leans forward in his chair. “Gods, you are cruel,” he says before he gets to his feet. A tug on Garrett’s leash gets the half-orc’s attention before he’s pulled to stand. Arlon leads the way, and Garrett blindly follows.

Bridgette pulls me after them as they head towards the large bed and mirrors that lay against the far wall. Arlon tosses a pillow on the ground before he pushes Garrett to kneel on top of it. The half-orc goes willingly and Arlon unbuckles the hood before lifting it from over his eyes. 

It’s only then I realize that someone’s trimmed the rough-chop of his hair. It’s shorter on the sides than it is on top and a sweat-damp lock of brown hair falls into his eyes. Arlon pulls the beeswax from his ears and strokes his face. “Are you alright?” he asks.

Garrett’s voice comes out rough. “Yes, Master.”

“Good.” Arlon unlatches his cuffs from his collar. “You took your punishment so nicely this morning that I’ve decided to give you your eyes and ears back. Now, you get to watch me fuck your wife,” he growls. 

Garrett shudders and leans against his hand. “Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”

“Good. Bridgette is far kinder than I am, so she’s going to lend you something to keep your cock warm.”

My eyes widen as Bridgette yanks me forward and presses my cock against Garrett’s lips. “But you need to warm him up first,” she says. Garrett looks up at me, a twinkle of mischief in his glazed eyes before he pulls my cock into his mouth.

I don’t know how much hotter I can stand to get. I shout and buck, thrusting deep into the welcoming heat as my hands clench under the ropes. I want nothing more than to grab his head, but Garrett’s setting the pace. He goes slow, bobbing up and down my length. After Bridgette’s rough treatment, my cock is so sensitive that the attention of Garrett’s tongue is near overwhelming.

He teases the underside of my cock before he does something that makes me shout in surprise. His tongue somehow manages to squeeze me, wrapping fully around my length. He pulls back to lap at my tip, but when he opens his mouth, I understand.

His tongue is split. Forked like a snake’s. And both sides of it grip my length unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. My eyes go wide.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp.

“Don’t you dare think of cuming yet,” Bridgette orders, and it’s only then I realize she’s working on Garrett’s knees. Binding him into his kneel by looping a rope around his thighs and under his shins. 

Garrett eases up on the tongue, and I gasp in relief. For a second, he just holds my cock in his mouth, letting me cool down. It almost undoes me anyway.

Bridgette is my saving grace. She pulls me away before I reach that point of no return. I groan, feeling grateful and disappointed all at once. I don’t want to know what she’d do to me if I came without her permission, and thankfully, I don’t have to find out. Yet.

She pushes me to kneel, straddling Garrett’s waist. Then I feel the half-orc’s cock press against my hole. He’s not as long as Arlon, but his girth more than makes up for it. After Bridgette’s preparations, I’m more than ready.

The stretch of him makes me moan, and I wiggle my hips until I’m seated fully. I rock my hips, savoring the feel of him filling me. His arms wrap around me, holding me tight, but then I feel the glide of rope again as Bridgette binds his wrists behind my back. Bridgette ties my legs the same as his, making it impossible to unfold from kneeling.

I wail and bury my face against Garrett’s neck. I can’t move. Can’t get the leverage to lift myself up and ride Garrett like I so desperately want to. Garrett rolls his hips a little, but he’s just as trapped as I am. 

It’s such a simple abjuration bind, but so effective. Garrett and I feed off of each other, kept just stimulated enough without being able to actually _finish_ the damn thing. It’s as cruel as it is brilliant. Tied as I am, I’m nothing but a hole to keep his cock warm.

I whimper when I feel Bridgette slide six focuses around my fingers. They spark and start to charge on contact. I clench my hands into fists and slump against Garrett, defeated. My balls ache, my ass throbs with unmet need, and I’m helpless to do a thing about it.

I blink and realize we’re positioned in front of the mirrors, letting me see Garrett’s back and the state I’m in. Face flushed, freckles standing out like embers. My eyes are glazed with pleasure and defeat. But then I realize I can see the bed that Bridgette pushes Arlon onto.

They shed clothes in a whirl of movement, tugging and pulling until they’re both bared. It’s feral, all teeth and nails as they tear at each other. Even though Bridgette is far smaller than Arlon, her nails scrape over his tan skin hard enough to draw lines. A low growl rumbles out of Arlon, and the sound makes the skin on my neck shiver.

Under me, Garrett lets out an involuntary little noise of anguish as he strains against his ropes. I whimper against his neck and try to roll my hips to meet him. The feel of him filling me, the friction of my over-sensitive cock trapped between us is enough to drive me mad, but it’s not enough to tip me over the precipice I teeter on. 

Bridgette cries out as Arlon enters her, and I see her legs wrap around him as he fucks her hard. The sounds of their mutual pleasure is an added torment on everything else. I shudder as I listen to them, hearing Arlon’s low growl rumble out of him as Bridgette urges him on with quiet words.

“Did you miss me?” she murmurs as she bites his ear gently.

Arlon groans as he hauls her onto his lap, thrusting deep. “So much.”

Bridgette gives a breathless little laugh. “Then prove it.”

Arlon seems intent to do just that. He pushes her back onto the bed and hikes her leg over his shoulder, thrusting deep as he captures her lips. I close my eyes and bury my face against Garrett’s neck as the half-orc trembles. He’s just as desperate as I am, and I feel his cock twitch inside of me when Bridgette cries out, a long rattling shout of pleasure as she cums. Arlon’s moan follows a second after, and I rock my hips futilely, wishing I was the one wringing that sound out of him.

They fall quiet, basking in the afterglow while Garrett and I are left to our misery. His breathing is sharp and uneven in my ear, and I whimper against his neck, my body aching with desire. Garrett shifts, and it’s just enough to push his cock against that spot inside of me. I cry out, unable to keep my desperation in any more as I vainly try to rock my hips. I strain against the ropes, feeling them bite against my skin as I try and fail to get any leverage. 

“Someone’s getting desperate,” Bridgette says smugly. She’s right. I haven’t felt like this since the end of my first week with Arlon, and she’s gotten me there in the span of a morning. I feel like I’ve been kept on the ragged edge for hours. All I want is to cum, mind blank to everything else.

A hand cups my chin, and I blink my eyes open to look up at Bridgette. I feel like I’m on the verge of tears, reduced to nothing but a toy for her to use or break as she sees fit. What’s worse is I don’t know whether she’ll let me finish or not. I kiss her hand, nuzzle against her fingers, anything to try and sway her to mercy. 

“Sweet boy,” she purrs, her voice gentle. “Do you want to cum?”

“Yes! Please ma’am, please,” I beg. “I’ll do anything.”

She raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across her face. “Anything?” she repeats. “Tell me what you’d do.”

I rock my hips, though it adds up to nothing more than a wiggle that makes Garrett groan. His arms tighten around me to hold me still. “I’ll lick your boots, lick your slit - I’ll let you fuck my ass, my throat, anything ma’am, please!” I’m babbling. I know I am, but I can’t seem to stop. “Beat me, piss on me, step on me, _anything.”_

Bridgette looks down at me with a new appreciation, her thumb brushing my lips. “There he is,” she purrs, her fingers gentle as she caresses my face. “There’s the wizard that made the spell that saved my husband.” Her smile warms me from the inside out.

I see a glint of metal and hear Garrett’s appreciative groan when the ropes holding his legs are cut. Bridgette glides a hand through Garrett’s hair. She leans close, and I feel the half-orc shiver. “Finish him off, love.”

Garrett doesn’t need to be told twice. His arms tighten their grip around me, crushing me to his chest. He thrusts up into me, so hard I choke on my breath. With the second thrust, I find it and scream in pleasure, arching as his cock rams that spot inside of me. The third one shoots me over the edge.

I cum hard, my cock erupting in between us. My vision whites out as Garrett rams against that spot again and again. I lose all sense of time as the pleasure overwhelms me before it starts to turn sharp, an overload of sensation. “May I please cum, Master?” he asks, his voice pinched with need.

“Not yet.”

I can’t stop a wail. Garrett groans, and I bury my face against his neck, a whimper of continuous pleas falling from my lips. I can’t take any more. I beg him to finish, because if he doesn’t, I feel like I’m going to come apart, broken by his hard and steady thrusts. Bound as I am, I can’t do anything to stop him from using me to reach his end. I’m helpless on his lap as his cock rams that spot inside of me again and again, milking every last drop from my aching testicles.

“Please, Master,” Garrett begs, and it sounds like he’s reaching the end of his endurance. 

A hand grips my hair and peels my face away from Garrett’s neck. I whimper as my vision swims. Blearily, I meet Arlon's gaze and see something like awe on his face. Even though he’s talking to Garrett, he keeps his eyes on me. “You may cum, Garrett.”

Garrett doesn’t waste a second. He grabs me hard and thrusts deep. My voice breaks as I scream, my cock giving one last feeble dribble. But Garrett stills, and I sob with relief, every part of me aching and oversensitive. I sink against him, all the fight and desperation fucked out of me. 

The haze wraps around me like a warm blanket. I’m jolted out of it as the ropes around my arms loosen and come off. The long constrained muscles stretch out, and I moan in relief. It only succeeds in shooting me ever deeper into conspace. 

Hands are on me, and I’m limp as someone carefully detaches me from Garrett. My vision sparks white as I’m pulled off of him, his cock dragging over that spot inside of me one last time. I feel the muscles of my ass twitch and gape, letting Garrett’s seed slide out of me.

My legs can’t hold me. Fucked to jelly. I whimper but strong arms pull me close before I can collapse. “Hush, pet,” Arlon murmurs. “You’re done.”

I lose track of things for a bit. I’m laid out on something soft before gentle hands spread my legs. Fingers find my balls, and I groan. “No more,” I beg, a stop just behind my lips. I’m still so sensitive that even the soft touch is too much. 

“Hush,” Arlon murmurs and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m just checking to be sure nothing’s injured. Though with how hard that orgasm was, I don’t see how it could be.”

I give a small, exhausted laugh and let him do what he will. He’s gentle and doesn’t prolong it. By the time he finishes, I’m already half asleep. A heavy blanket is settled over me, and I doze. I’m not sure how long I’m out, but at some point, a warm presence nestles up beside me, an arm draping over my waist.

When I finally manage to open my eyes, I see that it’s Garrett. His eyes are closed, lips parted enough that I see the white shine of his tusks. It’s no surprise that today wore him out just as much as it did me, yet over the deep, even sound of his breathing, I hear quiet voices. I let myself be lulled by them, warm and content before my overloaded mind finally starts to translate it to words.

“-you _sure_ you want to apprentice a conduit?” Bridgette asks. She keeps her voice low. “We’ve seen how that can be used against us.”

“Just because he’s a naturally inclined conduit doesn’t necessarily mean he’s susceptible to enchantment,” Arlon murmurs. 

“You saw first hand what happened to Garrett,” Bridgette says. “They’re more alike than you want to admit.”

“I know they both can fall into it deep,” Arlon says. “Conduits like them are rare, but we still don’t fully understand what happened between Garrett and Diran. What _other_ spells he may have stacked to get an effect like that.” Arlon sighs heavily. “Besides, by the time he’s ready, this whole mess will have passed.”

“We can hope,” Bridgette mutters. “I'm just saying that you have other options. Ones that are much further along than him. Allisande, for one. Alix is another. And the blond - what's his name?"

"Thaddius," Arlon says, amused.

"That one," she says. "They’re all options."

"Just because they’re options doesn’t mean they’re right for the job," Arlon insists. “Alix has no interest in trying for conjuration, though he used to conduit for corpimancy if you asked nicely. Allisande doesn’t rule out any schools, but she’s too close to the Crown. I don’t like the idea of handing over the Crux to a bloodline wizard. It’s just asking for outside politics to complicate things, and one with _royal_ blood will only exacerbate that. Thaddius is technically non-bloodline, but he has an attitude I don't like and a mean streak that's put him on thin ice more than once."

"You're being picky."

"Only as picky as Faunette would have been," Arlon shoots back, and the silence between them is as heavy as it is brief. "But we have time. I'm not planning on retiring _tomorrow._ Even if I wanted to, none of them have full mastery. Allisande still needs enchantment and corpimancy. Thaddius needs transmutation, divination and corpimancy, and if you ask me, I think conquering divination is beyond his reach. Dom though… he’s more than capable. It’s getting him to believe it that’s the hard part. He just needs time.”

My foggy thoughts finally catch up with what they’re talking about. 

Arlon’s replacement. 

For _grandmaster._

And he’s considering me.

The thought makes my pulse race. I clench my eyes shut and pretend I haven’t heard. The idea of the Crux without the mentor and caster who’s come to mean so much to me is unbearable.

“You’re turning fifty in the spring,” Bridgette says after a moment.

“Thank you for the reminder.”

“How much time are you willing to give him?” she asks. “Faunette was only forty seven when she got sick. The only thing that could be worse than making the wrong choice for grandmaster is making no choice at all.”

“I know, I _know,”_ Arlon says through a sigh. “I don’t have an answer for you. Dominai would be the best for the job, but I’m not going to rush him through his masteries. It wouldn’t be fair to him or his potential.”

“So you’re not going to tell him?”

Arlon is quiet for a moment. “Not yet. Once he gains a few more masteries. Then I’ll ask him to apprentice,” he says. “Allisande and Thaddius are convinced I’m going to pick one of them, but I think they’re getting suspicious about Dom since I’ve collared him. I want to spare him from that attention for as long as I can.”

He may already be too late in that. I remember back to that strange morning where Thaddius stepped in my way. I’d had a feeling he’d done it to make my life harder, but now I understand why.

I hear the scrape of a chair before I hear Arlon’s sigh. “I’m not trying to push you, Bridgette murmurs. “You’re in good health. You’re more than capable of keeping up with the Crux, but this whole thing with Diran shook me. If Dominai hadn’t been there-”

“I know,” Arlon sighs. “I know.”

They fall quiet, and I curl a little closer to Garrett, finding comfort in his warmth. I don’t want to think about any of it. Wish I hadn’t heard it. I try to forget it, force it aside as I doze again. My fragmented dreams are fraught and full of dread.

I jerk awake with a gasp, and Garrett lifts his arm from my waist. When I blink my eyes into focus, he’s watching me. “You’re alright?” he asks before settling his arm back over me.

I swear and push my hair away from my face. “Fine,” I say. “Just a bad dream.” I can barely remember the specifics, but the image of Arlon disappearing into a fiery blast of light is the part that woke me. I shake it off - I can’t think about it now. Not when it makes my pulse race with fear every time I do.

Arlon's wrong about me. I could never do all that he does. He said himself he's not planning on retiring soon, so maybe I still have time to convince him otherwise.

Garrett gives a sympathetic smile. “I get it,” he says. “I’ve had my fair share recently, too.” I blink and look around the dungeon, only to see that the lights have been dimmed. We’ve been left alone. “Arlon and Bri are upstairs. They told me to bring you up when you woke. How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” I mutter. “I don’t think my ass will ever be the same.”

Garrett chuckles at that. “You’ll tighten back up,” he says. “Just in time for Bri to loosen you again next week.”

I barely bite back a groan when my idiot cock manages to twitch at the thought. “Guess I better get used to it,” I say. I’ve gotten a taste of the kind of caster Bridgette is, and I’m already craving another. I scoot a little closer to him, the unanswered question hanging between us. There’s no telling how many weeks him and Bridgette will be here. “How are you?” I ask at last.

Garrett’s smile is a little strained. “Better,” he says. “Arlon’s helping me get my head back on straight. It’s… slow going, but it’s getting easier.”

I reach out and stroke my fingers through his thick hair. He closes his eyes, relaxing under my touch. “This suits you,” I say and gently tug at one of the short locks.

“Bri says so, too,” he mutters and rubs the back of his head. “She trimmed it for me. I’m still getting used to it. Until now, my hair’s never been cut.”

“Really?”

His smile turns bitter. “Braids are important to orc-kin,” he says, the hurt obvious on his face. “They don’t get cut unless we’ve been disgraced in some way. Guess it’s only appropriate I lost mine now.”

I lean forward and press my forehead to his. “No, it’s not,” I say. It’s just an insult on top of everything else Diran did. “It’s fucked.”

Garrett gives a small huff of a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

For a second, we just stay there. Neither of us seem in too much of a hurry to head upstairs. I let my eyes close and feel the warmth of his breath mingle with my own, but an errant thought makes me laugh.

“Is the split tongue an orc thing, too?”

Garrett chuckles and slides one strong arm over my waist before pulling me closer with ease. He smirks as he says, “No. That was a corpimancy thing. Did you like it?”

“It felt incredible,” I say through a laugh. “You almost got me in trouble with that.”

Garrett chuckles before he catches my lips, kissing me deeply to let me explore his tongue all over again. When we finally break apart, I’m flushed and breathless, my cock already a little more alert - idiot fucking thing. Garrett presses a chaste kiss against my forehead. “We’ll both be in trouble if we don’t head up soon. Ready?”

I groan and will myself to move. “As ready as I’m gonna be.”

#

Bridgette and Arlon are talking as we emerge from the dungeon, but they fall quiet so suddenly that I’m sure they were talking about us. I go to kneel by Arlon’s side and notice the spell I made with Alix resting on his desk. He picks it up and hands it back to me. 

“I want to test it,” Bridgette says before I can string it back onto my necklace. “I have an idea of the effect, but I want to see it.”

I look up at Arlon, and he smiles as he strokes a hand through my hair. “If you’re amenable, that is,” he says.

“I’m fine with it, sir.” I’ve been curious about it myself.

“You come too, Garrett,” Bridgette says. “Because he’s going to test it on you.”

I blink and share a look with the half-orc. “Yes, Mistress,” he says even though he raises an eyebrow at her. Bridgette just smiles and slips her hand into his.

We head to the abjuration yard as a group. I pull my robe around me a little tighter as we step into the afternoon chill. Garrett doesn’t seem phased as he walks to the middle of the yard, wearing nothing but a loose shirt and trousers. His bare feet step across the frosted grass like he doesn’t even feel the cold. 

Arlon puts a hand on my shoulder. “Ready?”

“Ready, Master,” Garrett says.

I roll the focus between my fingers and let out a breath before I release the spell. I see it in a shimmer of white, like powdery snow catching the light. It rains down in a large dome, covering more than half the yard. Garrett blinks and looks up in surprise. “Oh.”

Bridgette smiles. “How do you feel?”

Garrett gives a small laugh. “Great.”

Bridgette smiles and glances at Arlon. “Go on. Try to hit him.”

I blink at Bridgette in shock even as Arlon walks towards the half-orc, rolling up the sleeve of his robe as he does. He steps under the shimmer of the spell, and his pace slows, like he’s lost track of what he was doing. He shakes it off and he moves towards Garrett with intent, fist raised, but he can’t seem to move it.

“I can’t,” Arlon says, a grin splitting his face. “Garrett?”

Garrett curls his hand into a fist. He seems like he has to work himself up to it, bouncing a little from one foot to the other before he throws the punch. It’s fast enough that I flinch, but it barely manages to thump against Arlon’s chest. He gives a shocked laugh that Arlon echoes.

The grandmaster tries to throw another, but it bumps Garrett’s cheek more like a caress. It’s kind of funny. Like watching a fight in slow motion. I cover my grin with my hand as they start to laugh in earnest.

Bridgette puts a hand on my shoulder, and I can see her smiling out of the corner of my eye. She watches fondly as Arlon and Garrett descend into laughter proper, holding onto one another as it escalates. “Good job, kid,” she says. “This is a hell of a spell.”

I flush at that, but manage a quiet, “Thank you.”

She chuckles and pulls me down to press a kiss against my cheek. Arlon and Garrett finally stumble from the perimeter of the spell, a little breathless and still smiling from ear to ear. A weight seems like it’s been lifted from both of them. Arlon suddenly looks ten years younger.

“It’s abjuration and enchantment, isn’t it?” Bridgette asks.

Arlon gives a small laugh. “Yes, but not like any I’ve ever felt. Enchantments are usually so abrupt, but this one I could feel working. It was a slow sort of come on, but no less effective for it.”

“It would be… amazing crowd control,” Garrett says, his eyes wide with excitement. “We’ve been using hard barriers, but if this was an option to quell an angry mob?”

“Godsdamn, but if we’d only had this a week ago,” Arlon says through a small laugh. He looks at me with new appreciation. “Dom, this is incredible.”

My face gets hotter, but I can hear the sincerity in his voice. It fills me with warmth. “Thank you,” I say. “It was… just what Alix needed.”

Arlon pulls me into a tight embrace, and I sink into him. “It’s something we need, too.”

Tears of gratitude well to my eyes. Today has been a lot of emotions, and all of them catch up to me at once. I return the embrace, my hands tightening in his robes. Arlon tilts my chin up. “What’s wrong?”

I give a wet laugh. “I don’t know?” It wasn’t meant to be a question. Everything is coming so fast, I can’t sort through it. I bury my face against his chest and laugh through the tears. “I’m dropping, I think. But it’s not a bad one.”

Arlon tightens his embrace and kisses the top of my head. “You’re alright,” he says.

“I didn’t go easy on you today,” Bridgette adds. “You exceeded my expectations, and with all that Arlon’s been saying about you, they started pretty high.”

I give a shaky laugh and pull my face free of Arlon’s chest to drag in a breath. “Y’all aren’t helping,” I say. The tears come harder, but I can’t stop smiling. 

Garrett chuckles and asks, “Did you have fun today?”

I’m getting my sleeves wet trying to keep my face dry. “A whole lot."

Arlon kisses my forehead. “Good,” he says. “So did we.”


	20. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlon loosens his grip, and Dom and Olbric head into town for supplies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Holy cow y'all this is the second to last chapter of book 2! Next week will be the finale, but fortunately, part 3 is already well in the works! Be sure to follow me on Twitter for updates @AletheaFaust. Thank you so, so much for your comments on the last chapter. Y'all are what keeps me motivated to keep writing, and your engagement with this story really does mean to the world to me. I hope you enjoy!

Arlon’s announcement at dinner is met with cheers. In an instant, the mood of the Crux lifts and spirits only diminish a little when he lays out the conditions; go in groups of two or more, be back by sundown, a guard rotation is mandatory for the foreseeable future and the schedule will be posted in the main atrium.

After dinner, Arlon takes me to his room. If I had thought him and Bridgette would give me an easy night after the morning I’d had, I was wrong. I’d also been wrong in thinking his bed could only fit three.

Bridgette wants to see what my throat can take, so Arlon shows her. He has me kneel by the side of the bed as he fucks my mouth, hand fisted in my hair. Saliva drips from my lips, but through it all, I stave off gagging. 

I feel his cock twitch before he pulls me down to swallow his length, forcing my nose against his navel. My throat works around him, and I look up to see him smiling down at me. I start to feel lightheaded from the lack of air, but Arlon holds my head tight when I try to pull away. He closes his eyes, and it’s a thrill to see the bliss on his face as his cock empties down my throat. Only after I’ve licked him clean does he hand me over to Bridgette.

And she puts me and Garrett to work. She pushes me onto the bed before straddling my head. She smothers me, grinding against my face as I lick and such her until my tongue aches and lips are swollen. Garrett does the same to her ass, his hands holding her hips so she doesn’t break my nose when she cums. We bring her to climax twice more before she finally allows us a reward.

With her pressed between us, Garret slides into her slit while I thrust into her tight ass from behind. My cock throbs, balls aching for release, but Bridgette sets the pace. Every time I feel like I’m getting close, she orders us to slow. I don’t know if she’s doing it to prolong our torture or if she’s just using us for what feels best to her. 

Either way, I’m desperate by the time she pushes Garrett onto his back and leans forward. “Go wild, boys,” she says at last, voice thick with pleasure. I don’t need to be told twice. 

I thrust deep and hard, feeling Garrett do the same. We set an alternating pace that sets her off again, and only then does she allow us to cum. All the while, I feel Arlon’s smoldering gaze watching us.

After it all, I’m so exhausted that Arlon has to carry me to his private bath to clean me up. I fall asleep between him and Bridgette, lulled by Garrett’s deep breathing. I sleep like the dead, warm and safe between the three of them. 

When I wake, it’s a slow, easy come on. Warm bodies are pressed all around me, and I have a hard time mustering the will to get up. It’s a trick to do it without disturbing the rest of them. Bridgette is snuggled against my back, Arlon against my front, so I have to slide out down the foot of the bed.

I manage it, and when Arlon stirs, it’s only to fill the spot I left. But I’m not completely undetected. Bridgette blearily peeks an eye open. She smiles when she finds me before scooting closer to Arlon, eyes closing once more.

I find my clothes before I go through my morning routine a little slower than normal. I’m sore all over from yesterday, and I move a little gingerly as I set out Arlon’s clothes and robe. I’d set out some for Garrett and Bridgette, but I can’t find where they’ve stored them for the time being, and I don’t want my rustling to wake them. Instead, I stoke the fire before I quietly leave, closing the door securely behind me.

It’s not until I’m halfway to the baths that I notice the grey ribbons that have been sewn around the cuffs of my robe. I freeze in the middle of the hall, blinking in shock. 

An abjuration mastery, nestled right against my divination one.

For a second, my thoughts grind to a halt. It has to be a mistake. My fingers find the edge of the little ribbon, ready to take it off. Give it back. 

I still haven’t cast with Arlon. Sure, the spell I made with Alix had impressed Arlon and Garrett, and I survived abjuration with Bridgette, but I’m not ready for this yet.

But then I remember the conversation I’d overheard between him and Bridgette. Arlon said he wasn’t going to rush me through my masteries. He wouldn’t give me this unless he thought I had earned it.

And once I shut down that nagging voice in my head, I realize he's right. I _earned_ this.

I’m smiling like an idiot by the time I reach the baths. “Have a good Monday?” a voice asks, and I jump. Cancassi glides to the edge of the pool. "You look like you've been through it."

“You better believe it.” I hold up the sleeve of my robe and click my tongue. 

Cancassi’s copper eyes widen. “Look at that!” they crow. “Congratulations!”

I beam and set my robe on the hook on the wall. The rest of my clothes follow, and I sink into the water next to them with a groan. Cancassi kisses my cheek as I drape an arm around their shoulders. “I didn’t realize you were petitioning!” 

I give a small laugh. “I wasn't,” I say. “But Arlon really liked the abjuration I made with Alix. Then he loaned me out to Bridgette for the day.”

“Good gods. I’ve never cast with her, but Galiva’s told me tales,” Cancassi says. “What’d she do?”

“You know I don’t kiss and tell,” I tease. Or have my ass ruined and tell. I’ll talk theory till I’m blue, but I like to keep the experience of it to myself. And right now, I’m grateful for the hot water to soothe the aches leftover from yesterday. I flush even thinking about everything. “Let’s just say it was a test of endurance.”

Cancassi chuckles and leans their head against my shoulder. “You’re no fun,” they say. “But congratulations all the same. I’m sure with all three of them there, you more than earned it.”

I lean back against the lip of the pool. “You have no idea,” I say with a small laugh. “Now could you make sure I don’t drown while I sleep for another hour?”

Cancassi laughs as they pull me close, and I groan appreciatively as their long fingers start to wash my hair. Even though I’d been joking, they lull me to a doze. When I blink my eyes back open, I’m reclined against their chest, and they have their arms wrapped around me to keep me from drifting off.

Once they realize I’m awake, they say, “Olbric said to tell you he’s heading into town today if you’d like to be his plus one. He wants to go talk to someone near the palace about commissioning transmutation supplies.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” Excitement thrums through my veins. The surprise I ordered from the tailor Ambra recommended should be done, too. It took every coin from my stipend, but it will be worth it. “Are you coming?”

“No, I declined,” they say through a yawn. “With the barrier down and the lights off, I think I’m finally going to get a good rest today.”

I turn to catch their lips. “I hope so.”

#

Breakfast is fresh apple tart that Felicity made, and I grab an extra one to bring up to Olbric. When his door clicks open, I’m greeted by the sight of his ass half exposed as he pulls his trousers on. He straightens up with a jolt and gives me a look over his shoulder. 

“Normally you knock,” he says.

“Normally you’re still asleep,” I shoot back before I steal a quick kiss.

He chuckles and finishes fastening the buttons on his pants. “I’ve got a lot to get done today,” he says before raising an eyebrow at me. “Up to, and including you, at some point.”

I flop onto his bed with a groan. The bath helped, but I have a feeling I’ll feel yesterday for a few days to come. “Deal, but I call top.”

Olbric smirks. “I never assume otherwise on Tuesdays,” he says. “Besides, I saw you all head into the abjuration yard. If you had to contend with all three of them, I’m surprised you’re not in the infirmary.”

“Not for lack of trying,” I say through a chuckle. “Bridgette is no caster to mess with.”

Olbric hums thoughtfully as he pulls on his shirt, a far off look on his face. “Hmm, I’d let her step on my neck.”

“Funny you say that, because she gave me some new ideas for evocation I’d like to try with you,” I say and wag my eyebrows at him.

He laughs and presses his knee between my legs, kneeling to kiss me deeply. I reach up and twine my fingers through his loose hair as I return it. He pulls away too soon and purrs, “I look forward to it.” Then he catches sight of my sleeves, and his eyes go wide. “What!” He tugs at my sleeve and presents it to me, like I haven’t seen it. “When?!”

I beam up at him, unable to contain my excitement. “Yesterday,” I say. “Told you - Bridgette is no caster to mess with.”

Olbric looks a little confused. “You were petitioning, and you didn't even tell me?” 

I shake my head. "Sure wasn't, but Arlon thought the spell I made with Alix warranted mastery."

“Is that what you were testing in the abjuration yard? I saw Arlon and Garrett laughing like teenagers,” Olbric chuckles.

“Yeah. Turns out, it’s abjuration and enchantment," I say, grinning at the memory. "Garrett’s pretty excited about the possibility of using it for crowd control.”

Olbric kisses me again. "Amazing," he murmurs against my lips. "Congratulations, Dom."

I flush red but can’t stop a smile. "Thank you."

Olbric pulls me to my feet. "Least I can do is treat you to lunch."

I can't stop a laugh. "Good. Because I've spent every last cent I have on a present for you."

Olbric raises an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Really," I say with a wink. "Let's go."

#

We’re not the only ones eager to get back to freedom. In the main hall, we run into Thaddius, Ambra and Iona. We head out of the Crux as a group, passing Fey and Adan on guard duty at the gate. Even they seem happy to be there and wave us by with a nod.

Thaddius gives me a sly look as we head out. “Sure you’re up for the trip, Dom? You’re walking a little tender.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’ll manage.” If he’s trying to shame me for conduiting, it won’t work. No shame in it with the spells Arlon and Bridgette were able to get out of me. No shame in conduiting anyway.

Ambra elbows him before she falls into step beside me, rolling her eyes. She glances behind us to where Olbric and Iona are talking before she asks, “You getting everything today?”

“Sure am,” I say through a grin. 

“You want to spring it on him tonight?” she asks, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

“That’s the hope,” I say. “We’ll see if he’s up for it. Can I still send him to you and Galiva?”

Ambra beams at me. “Absolutely.”

Excitement settles in my gut. Olbric had said that he doesn't conduit enchantment often because not much gets to him. Tonight's the night to test that. 

For the rest of the trip into town, I’ve got a smile I just can’t shake. Once we reach Straetham proper, Ambra kisses my cheek before she heads off with Thaddius and Iona. Olbric slides up beside me. "Whereto first?" I ask.

"I have a place near the palace I need to visit," Olbric says. 

"Mine's just outside the market. Your stop first, grab lunch for Galiva, market, then home?"

"Deal."

We share a look of pure mischief. I know whatever he’s got planned for his transmutation mastery, he’s made with me in mind. I can't help but wonder what he's got in store for me, and his grin says he's doing much the same about what I’ve got planned. 

That mischief turns from looks to touches after a bit. We're discreet about it, our winter cloaks helping hide our wandering hands. It sure makes the trip up to the high city more interesting.

Neither of us notice the three men who follow us until one of them calls out to us. “Oy thots!”

Beside me, Olbric tenses. “Just ignore them,” I murmur. 

“‘Aven't you caused enough trouble around here?” another one of them calls.

They don’t get physical, but our trip to the high city gets far less enjoyable as they heckle us down the street. Apparently the memory of what a wizard can do is still fresh in their mind, because they stay a distance behind us. It only means that they feel the need to yell louder, drawing the attention of others on the street.

“Hey!” a woman shouts from the second story window to my left. I don’t look up, expecting that another person is joining in, but then the woman continues. “Lay off ‘em, you degens!”

I hear one of our hecklers scoff. “Why?” he calls back. “They ain’t nothing but trouble! Only took one of ‘em to level a city square. Wonder what these two could do.”

“Keep talking and find out,” Olbric murmurs, low enough that only I can hear.

I snort at that. “It’s just words. Not worth wasting a spell over,” I say.

“They’ll continue on their merry way!” the woman shouts back. “That is unless you dickless wonders give ‘em a reason to lay you flat!”

I can’t help but grin at that and glance up at the window as we pass. The older woman catches my eye and offers a small smile. “One of you - a fiery redheaded - might very well have saved me from being trampled last week,” she says. “If you see her, send her my regards.”

I smile at that. “Will do, ma’am.” Allisande will be happy to know she made an impression.

Fortunately, it takes the wind out our hecklers sails. They break off, muttering to themselves, and we’re left alone for the rest of our trip to the high city.

Olbric has me cover my necklace and wait by the palace gates. He heads into a door just a little ways down. From this distance, I can't tell what the store is, and I don't look too hard. I want it to be a surprise.

I pull my cloak a little tighter around me to try and block out the chill now that Olbric’s not here to do it. Two of the palace guards are huddled around a firepit near the guardhouse, but it’s only when I recognize one of them that I head over. 

"Can I join you?" I ask.

Nikolai groans and blows into his hands. "Gods, not you again."

"Don't worry, I'm not here to ruin your day today," I say and flash a grin. "Just looking for a warm spot to wait."

Nikolai sighs and glances at his partner before nodding me over. "I thought the Crux was locked down?" he asks as I hold my hands out to the fire.

"Just reopened this morning," I say. "Did you miss us?"

Nikolai snorts, but his partner looks at me with new interest, her eyes going wide. "You're a wizard?"

"Hard to believe right?" I say and wink.

Nikolai eyes me, but there's something like curiosity in his gaze. "Where you from, Dominai?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Trying to out me as a peasant again?"

Nikolai snorts. "You did that yourself the second that accent came out."

I laugh, though I don't think that was the reaction the guard was expecting. "I'm from Airedale. Up in the Hobokins."

"How the hell did you end up here?" the lady guard asks. "I didn't think there were any wizard families up in the mountains."

"There aren't," I say. "I'm no bloodline wizard. Had no idea I was magic for the first couple decades of my life."

"How'd you find out?" Nikolai asks.

I grin as I catch his eye. "Slept with the right person." Nikolai flushes red, and I can’t help but admit I like the sight. He’s handsome, but I can’t help and wonder if I can make him blush a few shades darker. “Ever wondered if you have a spark of it?” 

It works. Nikolai scowls and shoves his hands close enough to the fire that I’m sure the embers kiss his fingers. “Nope.”

I shrug even though the lady guard smirks at me from under her helmet. “That’s because you’re a killjoy, Nik,” she teases. “I’d want to know.”

I look at her and put on a charming grin. “I could help you find out.”

She raised an eyebrow, and I immediately like her. “Alright wizard, what you got?”

I look at her through the dome of her helmet. She’s got a strong freckled face and pretty green eyes that hold a hint of mischief. I hum as I step around the fire towards her, and she meets my gaze with a grin. I look her over intently, like I can find some hint of magic by sight alone.

I reach out to tilt her chin up, and a flush rises to her cheeks. Her lips part just slightly in a quiet gasp. I can’t stop a grin. Gods be damned, I really _do_ have that effect on people. “What’s your name?” I ask.

“Teagan,” she says.

I hum thoughtfully and say, “It’s hard to say. I’d have to do a… full aptitude test, which I don’t think your partner would be too thrilled with me doing right here.”

“Damn right,” Nikolai says, his voice a pitch higher than normal. 

Teagan seems a little breathless as she chuckles. “Well, I know where to find you,” she says. “It’s Dominai, right?’

“Right,” I say. “Good to meet you.”

“Dom?”

Olbric’s voice carries over the courtyard, and I wink at Teagan. “Got to go,” I say and glance at Nikolai. “Offer stands to you too.”

Nikolai scowls, and as I go to meet Olbric, I can hear him berating Teagan, even as she laughs him off. Olbric raises an eyebrow at me as I fall into step beside him. “Causing trouble?” he asks.

“I’d like to think I’m forging relations with the guard,” I say. “How’d it go?”

“They didn’t bat an eye at me or my request,” he chuckles. “They said they'll get it done.”

I grin and slide my arm around his waist before I kiss his cheek. “Can’t wait,” I say. “You feeling up for a spell I’ve got in mind tonight? Think of it as a… test run for something I’d like to do when you’re wearing my collar around your neck.”

I feel Olbric’s shiver. He raises an eyebrow. “Is this the surprise you have for me?” 

“Sure is.”

“Do I get any hint of this surprise?” he asks.

I hum thoughtfully before saying, “It’s enchantment.”

Olbric gives me a look, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “You know enchantment doesn’t work on me, right?”

“We’ll just have to see about that,” I say and give his ass a pinch.

Olbric laughs and ducks out of my arms. “Alright then, Dom. Color me intrigued.”

We head towards the clinic, but not before stopping by Mabel’s to grab a couple of meat pies. She’s so happy to see us that she comes around the counter to give Olbric and me a floury hug and an extra pie on the house.

When we get to the clinic, we’re greeted by a tall southerner. As soon as he catches sight of our necklaces, he gives a white toothed smile that stands out stark against his rich brown skin. “You’re here for Galiva?” he asks.

Olbric lifts up our parcel of meat pies. “We brought lunch.”

I look around the clinic and see her near the back, talking to a patient in one of the long lines of beds. Right now, fortunately, most of them are empty. I catch her eye as she glances up. It’s a moment longer before she finishes her conversation and heads over.

Olbric’s too busy flirting with the handsome nurse to hear Galiva ask, “You got your supplies?”

“Getting them next,” I whisper with a grin. “Ambra’s still down to help. Can you?”

“I’ll be back before dinner,” she promises and kisses my cheek. “We’ll have him ready for you.”

The way she says it makes my stomach do a little flip-flop of excitement. We eat lunch in the little back room that is packed full of supplies along with a small table and mismatched chairs. "Did you get an answer about the -" she stops and looks at me before continuing. "Supply commission?"

Olbric grins mischievously at me. Apparently everyone is on the keep-it-a-secret-from-Dom boat. "They'll do it," he says, pleased. "But it's going to be a few months before they can make it."

Fucking hell, what could he be planning that would take months to make? Olbric isn't about to give me a clue, and instead changes the subject. "Has Alix come to see you? He thinks he might be ready to conduit for corpimancy again."

I smile at that, and listen to them talk as I take another bite of lamb pie. For a second, I debate telling them about what Arlon said about apprenticing me, but I can't bring myself to do it. I don't talk about what all goes on when I cast with Arlon, and breaking that habit now, over something I wasn’t supposed to hear feels like betraying his trust. Instead, I tuck the thought away, and try to forget about it.

Once we’ve finished up, Galiva grabs Olbric and says, “Can you help me with something? I need someone tall.”

She gives me a pointed look and jerks her head towards the door. I take the hint and say, “I’ll be right back. My errand is just down the street.”

“You’ll be alright?” Olbric asks. The memory of the hecklers is still fresh for both of us.

I tuck my necklace under my shirt. “I’ll be fine,” I promise.

Olbric looks a little disappointed that he won’t get another hint as to what I’m planning. I doubt I’d be able to trust him to stay put like I did. Eager little snoop.

I head out and find Varice’s shop. The older woman looks up as I let in a cold gust of air, but she smiles when she sees me. “I wondered when you’d be back,” she says. “Most of this has been done for nearly a week now.”

“Sorry. Last week started on a bad note,” I say and meet her at the counter. She chuckles as she sets my parcel down and unties it to show me the contents. I smile and run the sheer red fabric through my fingers. It’s soft as silk, but my eyes are quickly drawn to the metal band that lays on top of it. 

“The jewelers delivered that on Monday,” Varice says. 

The silver collar has been polished to a shine. 

“It’s perfect.”


	21. Collaring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominai springs his surprise on Olbric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday all! Holy cow, this is the last chapter of Mastery! Part 3 is well in the works, and I think I'm on schedule to post it near the end of spring or early summer. I'll definitely be posting updates and sneak peaks over on Twitter, so be sure to follow me @AletheaFaust if you want to see how it's coming along! It's looking to be a more serious story that Initiation or Master have been. Where these two books were erotica with an epic fantasy twist, book 3 is looking to be more epic fantasy with plenty of erotic elements (and I'm so very excited about it!)
> 
> I hope you guys have enjoyed reading this as much as I love writing it. If you want to support me and get extra goodies in this universe, be sure to check out my profile to see where you can do that. Your engagement and enthusiasm for this story is really what keeps me going. I also am re-opening ideas for side stories. If you have characters/schools you want to see featured in their own side-story, leave a comment, and I'll see what I can do! Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

“What are you - ack!” Olbric yelps as Galiva grabs his ponytail and gives it a tug.

“Come on, you. Part one of your surprise comes from us,” she says with a mischievous grin.

Ambra winks at me from across the dinner table as she gets to her feet. “Give us two hours,” she says. “Well meet you in my room.”

“Ow - gentle!” Olbric says dramatically as Galiva pulls him to his feet by his hair. He allows himself to be led out of the mess hall, but not before giving me a rather mystified look over his shoulder. I smile as I watch them go, but my nerves make the last few bites of my meal impossible to finish.

I clear my plate and hurry to Arlon’s office as the jitters settle hot in my stomach. For some reason, I’m a little nervous about going to go talk to him. Even though I’m doing my best not to think about it, the conversation I overheard between him and Bridgette keeps buzzing through my head. Like a fly I can’t swat away.

I reach his office just as he’s about to lock his door for the night. He looks up as I approach. “What’s wrong?” he asks. Godsdamn, but he knows how to read me.

I almost cave right there. Tell him that I heard what he said. For a frustrated second, I want to shake him, tell him that he's _wrong_ about me, damnit! He shouldn't even be considering me!

"Dom?"

I blink, but when I see the concern on his face, the fight drains out of me. "It's nothing," I say and force the thoughts aside. I’ll talk to him about it, but not tonight. Tonight, I’ve got enough to worry about. I pull out the silver collar to show him. “Tonight’s the night.”

Arlon's face breaks into a smile as he squeezes my shoulder. “About time,” he says. “Do you feel ready?”

I draw in a breath as the casting nerves flutter in my chest. “I hope so.”

“That’s not an answer.”

I drag my fingers through my hair. After how much we’ve talked about this, I don’t know how much more ready I can be. “I’m ready - _we’re_ ready.”

“Good,” Arlon says and presses a chaste kiss to the top of my head. I blink in surprise when he hands me a key. “This is the key to the lower entrance of the dungeon.”

I take it even as I look at him in surprise. “I thought you were going to monitor?” 

“I would if I thought I needed to,” he says. “But I think tonight should be between you and Olbric.” I’m about to protest, but he cuts me off. “Dom, you are a skilled caster. You know the theory. You know the risks of casting, and you know how to navigate them. The only thing that will hold you back now is that nagging little voice in your head that tells you that you aren’t enough.” 

I swallow, and it suddenly feels like we're talking about more than Olbric's collaring. He props my chin up with a finger when I try to look away. “It’s lying to you. Don’t let it win. You’re enough, Dom.”

Gratitude floods me even as I realize something. Part of my reluctance to apprentice is because it would mean I'd be training to replace him. And I don't want to imagine the Crux without him.

I wrap my arms around his waist, burying my face against his chest. He chuckles as his heavy arms drape around me. “Thank you,” I murmur. “For everything.”

“It’s been my pleasure,” Arlon says. He presses one last kiss to the top of my head before he lets me go. “Have fun tonight.”

I waste time in the library, waiting until I can’t stand to wait anymore. My nerves have settled to an even hum as I head up to the second level of the enchantment tower, the silver collar hidden behind my back. I find Ambra’s door, take a deep breath to calm my thudding heart, and knock.

Galiva and Ambra giggle. Olbric swears. There’s rustling and whispers, and it takes a long moment for the lock on the door to click. Then, it opens, and my mouth falls open. 

It’s Olbric, but I barely recognize him. His hair is down, brushed and curled to a shine. Black kohl rims his hazel eyes, making the green in them pop. Rouge stains his lips a few shades darker, and he’s doing a fine job showing them off by pouting the way he is. His waist is cinched into the black corset I bought while the sheer ruby robe is tied loosely over it. Underneath it, the barely-there black undergarments hold the bulge of his cock. Black stockings cover to his mid-thigh and are held in place with a lacy garter. Galiva and Ambra even shaved his legs and the sparse hair on his chest before lotioning his skin to a shine. 

He looks like the highest priced mistress, and I can’t take my eyes off of him. 

Olbric scowls, a blush already spreading over his cheeks. “What?” he asks. “You did this to me, you know!”

“Oh I know,” I say with a grin. “You look even better than I imagined. You look beautiful, Olbric.”

His russet skin burns a few shades darker, and he looks like he wants to slam the door closed on me. Ambra and Galiva grin at me over his shoulder. “You’re welcome,” Galiva calls. “Now get him out of here. I’m tired of hearing him complain.”

“No one told me a forced makeover was in tonight’s plan!” Olbric shoots back. 

“I thought you said nothing could get to you?” I tease. Olbric sputters, but I don’t give him a chance to respond before I pull the collar out from behind my back and present it to him.

His eyes go wide. “Oh.”

“Ready?” I ask.

Olbric is opens his mouth, but no words come out. Excitement lights up his face. He meets my eyes, radiant as he smiles. In that moment, he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Coyly, almost shyly, he turns around and pulls his hair out of the way. I step up behind him and kiss his shoulder, feeling him shiver as I slide the collar around his neck. The clever little hinge opens and closes, and there’s a quiet click as it locks. Olbric’s breath hitches as it does. I turn him, threading my finger through the ring on the front of it before I pull him into a kiss.

He melts against me with a quiet whimper of pleasure, and I can tell already that this is going to be a fun night. The clothes softened him up, but the collar’s done him in. He may as well be clay in my hands. 

I grin against his lips. “I got us special accommodations for tonight. But to get there, we have to go downstairs.”

Olbric’s blush returns in full force when he realizes I mean to parade him around a little bit. He bites his lip, but nods all the same. I weave my fingers through his and smile over his shoulder at Galiva and Ambra. “Thank you both for this. Seriously.”

Galiva beams at me. “Have fun,” she says even as Ambra slides a hand into hers with a mischievous look. Ambra blows me a kiss before she shuts the door. A second later, I hear Galiva yelp.

I smile and pull Olbric close, my free hand gliding over his cinched waist. He lets out a quiet little whimper of anticipation. I want to plunder those pouty red lips, but I’ll have plenty of time for that later. Instead, I kiss his cheek and say, “Come on, beautiful.”

He falls into step beside me as I lead him down from the enchantment tower and into the Crux. Even though dinner’s finished, the library is still full, and Olbric gets a few whistles as I lead him past the doors. I don’t look at him, but I can almost feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off of him.

I lead him past Arlon’s office and down the stairs towards the baths. We break off into the small hall and reach the back door of the dungeon. When I pull the key out of my pocket, Olbric’s eyes widen in surprise. “Arlon loaned you the dungeon?” 

“Sure did,” I say and unlock the door. I lead him inside and turn the lights on bright, chasing all the shadows from the room. I want to be able to see him. “I wanted to get my money’s worth out of that outfit I bought you.”

Olbric bites his lip and grins at me, a hint of mischief crossing his face. “Oh, is that what this is about? Am I just a pricey toy for you tonight?” Done up as he is, that coy looks smolders.

I cup his cock through those lacy black underthings and lean close to nip along his jaw. “Yes. You belong to me until morning, isn’t that right?” 

We hadn’t exactly set a duration, but Olbric nods with a shiver. I smile and lead him into the center of the room where the light is brightest. I pull up a chair just outside of the light and take a seat. I want to take him all in. The shine of the magiline globes cast a golden sheen against his skin. The robe softens his shoulders while the cinch of the corset accentuates his hips and ass. Gods, but he is a sight. 

He starts to fidget under my gaze. It’s like he can’t decide what to do with his hands. I find it cute that instead of crossing his arms over his chest like he normally does, he hooks a finger through the ring of the collar. The longer I look at him, the more flustered he gets. 

“Turn around for me, nice and slow,” I say.

Godsdamn but he’s cute when he blushes. He does as asked and spins in a slow circle, letting me get a good look at him. If it weren’t for that bulge behind his black underthings, he could be a woman. 

“Slide your hands through your hair for me.”

A smile quirks his lips. He does as asked, hips cocking into a bit of a pose as he rakes his fingers through his hair. Now that I’m asking for a bit of a show, he falls into the role a little easier. He teases his hair out and grins at me through the mussed strands. 

I meet his eyes as I lean back comfortably in my chair. I fold one leg over my knee and rest my hand over my crotch. “Take the robe off for me.”

Olbric brushes his hair to the side before he turns his back to me. He unties the rope and tosses the silk tie to me. The sheer red fabric slides off his shoulders and down his back. His skin practically glows, and I wonder what Galiva and Ambra put on him to get it to do that. He looks radiant.

He waits until the robe’s under his ass before he glances at me over his shoulder and lets it drop. It seems like he’s enjoying this little game of dress-up more than he first let on. I chuckle and decide to up the game. “Dance for me.”

Olbric flushes hot again, and I’m glad. I was starting to miss it. “We don’t have any music,” he says.

I raise an eyebrow as I twist the tie of his robe around my hand. I could make him do without, but instead, I start to whistle. I start a slow, easy tune that I learned from the caravan I traveled with to get to the Crux. Olbric chuckles and runs a hand over his face. It’s a moment longer before he starts to sway his hips. 

It takes him a bit, but he starts to relax into it, moving into a slow, easy dance. He spins and slides his hands down his sides, and I know he’s doing it so he doesn’t have to face me head on. Even so, I have to admit that it’s a good view. 

He gains confidence after a minute, and I change the tune, speeding it up. Olbric chuckles and slides his hands through his hair as he bumps his hips out. When he turns again, his eyes are closed, and he’s smiling with obvious enjoyment. I let him at it for a moment, just enjoying the sight before I bring the little song to an end. 

“You really are shameless, aren’t you?” I tease. 

“You may surprise me, Dominai of Airedale, but I’m fast to adapt,” he pants and turns to face me, flicking his hair over his shoulder.

“Hmm, we’ll see how you feel when I parade you through the library when we’re done tonight,” I say. “You’re gonna look far less put together than you are now.”

Olbric shivers, and that flush rushes back to his face. I see him contemplate something before his lips slide into a slow, easy smirk. He takes a couple of steps towards me, twirling a strand of his black hair around his finger. “What does a girl have to do to avoid that?” he asks. 

I bite back a shiver. He's definitely getting the swing of it now. I smirk and undo the laces of my trousers to free my cock. “Why don’t you start with those lips around this,” I say.

Olbric makes a show of getting to his knees before crawling towards me. Godsdamn but he looks good. I’ve caught him off-guard just enough to know this isn’t exactly his comfort level, but he sure is embracing it. It’s a pleasure to witness, especially because I don’t think I’ll stop doing this anytime soon. I’m already running the numbers for another outfit as he settles into the space between my legs. 

I glide my hand through his hair as he laps the tip of my cock. He coats my length, lips teasing me to attention before he pulls me into his mouth. His tongue works the underside of my cock as he slides down my length. With every bob of his head, he takes a little more of me. My eyes slide closed as I savor the feel of his mouth. Gods but he has a talented tongue.

He makes little sounds of pleasure as he sucks me, and it sure seems like he’s trying to sway me to be merciful. I swear and force my eyes back open when I feel him take me in a little further. He looks up at me through his lashes as he swallows me to the root, nose bumping my naval. I groan and tighten my hand on his hair to hold him there, feeling his throat work around me.

I roll my hips a little, and though he clenches his eyes shut, he doesn’t gag. Fucking hell, that’s enough of that for now. He’ll finish me off long before I’m ready. 

I pull him off me, and he licks his lips, a bit of saliva smeared down his chin. “Not a bad start,” I say. “But you’ll have to do better to avoid putting on a show for the library later.”

I tighten my hand in his hair and pull him up. He gasps as I abruptly tug him onto my lap, pulling him so his back his back is against my chest. He gasps and slams his legs closed, but I push them roughly back open before I slap the inside of his thigh. 

“Stay,” I order. Olbric quivers as I trail my hand down between his legs to feel his erection, barely hidden behind the paltry underthings. I feel the spot of wet he’s made on the front of them and tsk. 

“Soiling these already, huh?” I slap his thigh again, hard enough that my fingertips tingle. Olbric's breathy little gasp is music to my ears. He twitches on my lap, his ass grinding against my hard cock. “That’s very rude. These were expensive.” I rub his length through the fabric until he moans and arches against me. His grabs my thighs, fingers digging into me as he thrusts into my hand.

“Hands on your collar,” I order.

Instead, his hands trail closer to my cock, and I deliver another hard, stinging slap to the inside of his thigh. He yelps, but I have to slap him once more before he obeys and hooks his fingers grudgingly over his collar. I bring my lips to the back of his neck as I toy with him, squeezing another drop of liquid from the tip of his erection.

I pull him flush against my chest and slide my hand over the corset that cinches his waist in. “Is this too tight?”

Olbric doesn’t quite manage to bite back a groan. “Could be a little tighter,” he says, a little breathless. I hum at that before I take the silky red tie of his robe and use it to bind his wrists in front of him. It wouldn’t be hard to get out of, but that’s not the game we’re playing tonight. I give his thigh another stinging swat.

“Go stand against the wall for me.”

He obeys, stumbling to his feet. I feel a thrill of satisfaction to see that I’ve already started to turn his legs to water. I aim to do better by the time we’re finished tonight. He leans back against the wall, grinning coyly at me as he holds his bound hands to his chest.

I grab his shoulder and spin him around to press his chest against the wall. “Spread your legs,” I order and slap his thigh when he doesn’t spread them quite wide enough. I angle his ass out and put his hands against the wall over his head. “Keep those there.”

“And what happens if I don’t?” he asks.

I smirk and give his ass a stinging slap. “Fuck around and find out.”

I untie the bow on the back of the corset before I take the laces and give them a tug. I work my way down the crisscross of laces, snugging Olbric’s waist in even tighter. Olbric gasps and quivers under me before I finish and re-tie the bow. “Better?” I purr and glide my hands over the forced curve of his waist.

“Yes.” He’s panting, breathless, and not just because of how tight I've cinched him in. He rolls his ass back, grinding against my crotch. It takes all my self control not to fuck him right against the wall, but I’m not looking to end things early. Instead, I slide my hand under the black lace panties to grab his ass. 

“You’ve never looked so good,” I purr as my fingers explore under the lace to tease at his hole. He moans, and spreads his legs a little wider in invitation. I can’t help but tug the panties down before delivering a few stinging slaps to his ass. It reddens his skin so it stands out stark against the black lace. Olbric moans, and I see the outline my hand’s made against his left cheek. 

Then, he scoots his hands down the wall.

I spin him around and grab his bound wrists before I pin his arms over his head. “What did I say about keeping your hands where I put them?” I ask. Olbric gives me a mischievous look, and I realize he _wants_ to be punished. Such a masochist. 

During our talks, he said he wasn't going to be the obedient, coy little conduit, and he's already making good on that promise. It's like he's testing the waters, feeling out what kind of caster I am. I grin at his defiance. I'm going to be the caster that tames him.

I find the metal hook that’s screwed into the wall above him, and pull his wrists up to slip the strong silk tie over it. Olbric tugs at the bindings, before a flash of fear crosses his face. It snaps him out of it abruptly, and I stop just as quick.

Then I remember that this was off limits the last time we cast. I feel like a fool for not double checking before we started. I swear and grab the silk end, ready to undo the knot and free him. 

“Wait,” Olbric says, and this close, I can feel his breath against my neck. “It’s alright."

I meet his eye and drop the act. “You’re sure?” I ask. Olbric trusted me with collaring him, and the last thing I want to do is fuck it up by drudging up bad memories.

He leans forward and kisses my nose. “I’m sure.”

I look at him, and the trust I see there makes my breath catch in my chest. Realization hits me like a brick. Olbric’s okay with it because it’s with _me_ doing it. 

I kiss him deeply, pouring my gratitude into the simple contact. “You’re incredible,” I murmur against his lips and feel him smile in response. I slide my hand through his hair before I tighten to a fist. I tug his head to the side, exposing his neck. “But you still moved your hands when I told you not to.”

I press a deliberately soft kiss again his neck. It's enough to pull him back into it. He shivers as he grins coyly up at me. I leave his hands bound over him as I pull away. 

I find Arlon’s collection of crops mounted on the wall beside us and make a show of deciding which one I’m going to pick. I settle on a thin, flexible leather crop with a shorter handle. I pull it down and slap it against my palm to test the sting. 

“Spread your legs,” I order.

Olbric grins, that mischief back on his face. He slides his legs closed. “Make me,” he purrs.

“Bratty little harlot," I murmur before I slap the crop hard against his thigh. "You want me to redden that pretty skin?" He yelps, but I catch him again when he spreads his legs just enough for me to get between them. I give him a few hard slaps until he has to obey. I don’t stop until they’re where I want them, spread wide against the wall. 

Olbric’s chest heaves as he looks at me, defiance and pleasure softening his face. I slide the tip of the crop under his chin and push his head up. I reach into my pocket and pull out six focuses before sliding them over his fingers. “You want to keep disobeying me?” I ask. “Then you get punished for it. I’m going to redden your thighs until you can’t put them together, and you’re going to count each strike, understand?” 

Olbric bites his lip. “Yes -” he stops, not sure what he should call me.

“Good girl,” I purr as I stroke his cheek. His face flushes hot even as he leans into my hand. “You may call me Dom.”

Olbric nuzzles my fingers. “Yes, Dom.”

I slap his thigh hard, and I like the shade of red that the crop leaves behind. “One!” he yelps. I do the same to his other thigh, and he arches against the wall. “Two!” I bring the crop down again and again, enjoying how each number he shouts sounds a little more desperate. But I know how much pain he can take, and we've barely scratched the surface. As promised, I don’t let up until his thighs are a healthy shade of red. The last strike is a hard one, and he cries out in pain as he shouts, “Forty!”

When I slide the crop down his flushed skin, he trembles but keeps his legs spread. I use his distraction to check the focuses, and see that only a couple are glowing. I remember him saying that he normally can’t charge more than that without orgasm, but I’m not going to give it to him yet.

“That’s a good girl,” I purr and drop the crop, letting my hands slide over his reddened thighs instead. Olbric moans, his whole body shaking as I move to kneel in front of him. “Did you learn your lesson?”

He whimpers as my breath brushes his sensitive skin. “Yes, Dom.”

“Good.” I tug the black lace down just enough to let his cock spring free. I chuckle when I realize that Galiva and Ambra shaved him here as well. He doesn’t have a lot of hair to begin with, but now his smooth skin is just begging me to give it a taste

I pin his hips against the wall as I draw his length into my mouth. When he tries to pull his legs in, I replace the crop with my hand and slap them back open, keeping him spread and exposed to me. And I don’t go easy on him. 

I use every trick I know. I tease the underside of his cock with my tongue before swirling around his head. I swallow him deep, letting my throat work him until he’s moaning and trembling under my hands. With how worked up I've gotten him, it doesn’t take long to bring him to the edge, and I hear the crackle as the focuses around his fingers spark. He wails, his hips jerking under my grip. I pull away before he can finish.

He whimpers and thrusts his hips towards me, like he’s trying to find my mouth again. “Oh fuck, c’mon,” he whines, and I reward him with another hard slap to his thigh. 

“You know what I’m going to teach you while collared?” I ask as I wrap my fingers around his testicles and tug them down. He groans miserably, and the sound sends a sadistic thrill through me. His length twitches temptingly before I give it a light slap. He gasps and jerks back against the wall. “Patience.”

Olbric whimpers and clenches his hands. I smile when I see that’s done the trick. All of the focuses around his fingers are charged. 

I straighten up and pluck the rings off before sliding six fresh ones down his fingers. He watches me with wide eyes, his mouth slightly open. It’s only then I realize he’s probably never switched schools in the middle of a casting. I reach down and feel his cock throb as he realizes we’re nowhere near done.

I've gotten an evocation out of him by the feel of it, but I promised him enchantment as well.

I grab his chin and make him look at me. “I could lock your cock away when you’re like this,” I say. “Make it so you have nothing to offer but your hole and your mouth. I bet that defiant attitude would go away real quick when I’ve kept you desperate for a night.”

Olbric’s eyes go wide at my threat, and it makes heat run straight to my cock. I grin and lean forward, brushing his neck in feather light kisses. “I don’t have a cage for you tonight,” I say, “But I’ll keep you desperate all the same.”

I squeeze a little lotion onto my hand, and Olbric moans as I grab his cock again. I tease his length, stroking him in long, even pumps before focusing on his head. He moans and arches his hips towards me even as I pin him against the wall with a hand gently around his throat.

“Everyone knows the premier evoker of the Crux, but none of them have seen you like this,” I murmur. I nibble at his ear even as I continue to stroke him. “Dressed up and painted, looking like the kind of woman even a king would be lucky to spend a night with. But only I get to enjoy you like this, isn’t that right?” 

Olbric whimpers and nods, but I loosen my grip on his neck a little. “Say it.”

“Yes,” Olbric gasps and arches into my hand. “Only you.”

“Good girl,” I purr, and speed my strokes up. He pushes his hips away from the wall and into my grip, begging with everything but his voice. I feel him tense, hear the tiny little whimper make it past his lips, and let go of him again.

“Fucking hell,” he says, and there’s a distinct tremor in his voice. When I look to his fingers, the focuses are already starting to charge. I grab the end of the tie to free his wrists, but I catch them before he can pull them to his chest. 

I pin him against the wall and nip down his neck and collar before I free the silky little ribbon that keeps his stockings attached to the garter. I hook my finger around the lace underthings and tease at them. “Take these off and bring them to me,” I purr. I’m curious to see if he’ll obey or not. I’ll come out the winner either way, honestly.

I step away from him and go to lay on the bed, propped on my elbows to watch. Olbric shivers against the wall, and it takes him a second to gather himself before he does as told. He moves slow as he slides the lacy little things down, letting them fall to his ankles as he frees his hard cock. He kicks the black underwear off one foot before bending down to retrieve it.

He brings it over to me, and I smile as he drops them into my hand. “Look at you being so obedient,” I tease as I loop the ribbon of his garter back through his stockings. I think I’ll keep those on. I like how they look. When I’m done, I can’t help but flick the tip of his hard cock and am rewarded with his little flinch. “Your manners improve when you’re desperate.”

That wrings a pleading little noise out of him. I reach up to hook my finger through his collar, pulling him close. He ends up straddling my lap, and the look he gives me is pure sex. His eyes are half-lidded, the haze of submission softening his face. I drag those pouty lips into a kiss, and my finger on his collar keeps his mouth locked to mine as I plunder him. 

His arms start to shake, and only then do I flip us, using the same move that had almost worked on Arlon when we went toe to toe down here. It definitely works on Olbric, and he yelps as he topples off of me and onto the soft bed. I’m on top of him before he can recover.

I lift his hands over his head and pin them with one of my own. I take the underwear and ball them up before I shove them into his mouth to gag him. He lets out a scandalized little noise, and I smirk. He’d done the same thing to me when Arlon made me a target a few months ago, so a little bit of payback only seems appropriate. “Stay,” I order. 

I kneel up and trail my hand down his chest and corset, enjoying him all splayed out. Olbric looks at me with wide eyes as he bites down on the ball of lace. “Besides, it’s best that you keep it down. I think Arlon, Bridgett and Garrett are still in the office.”

It’s a bold-faced lie, but it’s one that makes Olbric moan. Even if it’s not true, there’s power in the idea of it. “They’d get a sight, wouldn’t they?” I purr. “The premier evoker of the Crux, turned into a painted woman for the night. Maybe I’d let them have a turn with you.”

I get off of him just so I can grab his legs and yank him to the edge of the bed. He yelps as his ass nearly slides off the end, but I give him a good slap on the inside of his thighs to remind him how tender they still are. He shouts into his gag, and I’d swear he was being loud on purpose.

“I could loan you out,” I purr as I press between his legs, feeling his hard cock rub against my trousers. Olbric had said that he wasn’t against being passed around when collared, so I know the idea of it excites him, and I use it to my advantage. “Charge a silver for your mouth, five for your hole. I bet you’d make enough in a night that I could get you a whole wardrobe. Looking like this, you’d be the most popular wizard in the Crux.”

Olbric whimpers around the gag, and I smirk as I lean forward. “You’re already bought and paid for tonight, Olbric,” I purr. I pull my cock free from my trousers and slick it with another bit of lotion from my pocket. I pull one of his legs over my shoulder and maneuver him to the right spot on the edge of the bed as I line myself up. “What I do to you is up to me now.”

He looks up at me with glazed eyes, his chest heaving under the tight confines of the corset. He knows it. Even better, he loves it. I know I’m smiling like an idiot, and I don’t care.

“But lucky for you, I don’t feel like sharing tonight.” I seat myself inside of him with one smooth thrust, and Olbric arches under me. I don’t let him adjust before I start to fuck him in earnest.

His hands fly up to grab my shoulders, and I smirk as I bury myself deep and stay there. He lets out a whine of protest and wriggles his hips temptingly under me. “What did I say about moving your hands?” 

Olbric’s hands fly back to the blanket over his head and grab tight. I smirk and roll my hips. “Good girl. That’s your last warning.”

I lift his other leg up and slide my hands down his stockings as I thrust deeper. He throws his head back with a muffled shout, his hair wild around his head. The rouge Galiva and Ambra put on his lips has smeared a little, making him look even more debauched. The tight heat of him clenches around me, and I have to slow down a little, lest I end it too soon. 

Olbric whines when I do, and I smirk as I give him a long, slow thrust. “You like it when I fuck you hard, don’t you?” He looks at me with wide eyes, pupils big as marbles. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that naked lust on his face. I reach down and pull the gag out of his mouth. “Say it.”

Olbric bites his lip as he rides the leisurely thrust of my cock. “I like it when you fuck me hard,” he moans and wiggles his hips tantalizingly at me. “Please!”

“Please what?” I purr.

Olbric arches, his hands holding tight to the blanket overhead. “Please fuck me hard.”

I snap my hips sharply against him, wringing another shout of him. “Louder,” I order. 

Olbric trembles with need. He writhes under me, desperate and ready, and all the more beautiful for it. “Please Dom! Please fuck me hard!” he cries.

I grab the curve of his hips and pull him towards me as I meet him with a hard thrust. He cries out as I set a brutal pace, hard enough to scoot him over the covers. Every time he gets too far, I yank him back by his legs, and hear him shout as I reach deeper.

“Oh God, Dom. Fuck - please!” His hands fly to my shoulders, and this time I don’t have the concentration to punish him for it. 

Instead, I murmur, “Let me see it, beautiful.”

He told me he’s never been able to orgasm from penetration alone, so I grab his cock to help him along. It doesn’t take more than a couple strokes before I feel Olbric tense around me, his legs constricting to pull me closer. My fingers dig into the reddened skin of his thigh as his cock starts to empty. He gives a quivering moan, and I watch him paint himself with streaks of seed. It stains the corset, wetting his chest. The sight of him, head thrown back in ecstasy, hands clenched in the sheets, unravels me.

I bite his reddened thigh to muffle my moan as I cum hard, soiling him yet again. The feel of his tight hole milks every last drop out of me as I roll my hips. When I’m finished, I kiss the little indents my teeth left on his thigh. 

Olbric’s chest heaves, and he slides his arm across his eyes. His other hand stays tangled in the sheets overhead, and every focus around his fingers is charged.

I smile as I pull his arm away. He blinks owlishly up at me, and it seems to take him a second to find his voice. “Good God, Dom.”

I slide out of him and am rewarded with a quiet groan. I lay on the bed next to him, just letting myself cool off a little bit. Once I’ve caught my breath, I can’t help but loop a finger through his collar and pull him into a deep kiss. He returns it, and it’s so full of warmth and gratitude that I nearly melt with him.

I pull us both a little more securely onto the bed and stroke Olbric’s hair away from his face. He smiles at me, almost shyly as I brush his cheek with my thumb. “How do you feel?” I ask.

Olbric gives a small, breathless laugh. He doesn’t quite seem to know how to answer. “That was…” he runs a hand through his hair. “That was like having sex for the first time all over again.”

I can’t stop a small laugh as I pluck the focuses from around his fingers. I think back to my own first time in Airedale - all fumbling and awkward. More exciting than satisfying. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Olbric lets his head flop back onto the bed as he lets out a long breath. “A good thing,” he says. “A very, very good thing. Fucking hell, Dom - that was incredible. You never stopped surprising me. And then when you put fresh focuses on? I thought I was going to burst into flames.”

I beam and pull out the other six focuses from my pocket. “You managed to charge them all,” I say. “And you only came once.”

Olbric chuckles and says, “Give me half an hour or so.”

I smirk and give the ring on his collar a tug. “Good. Because I’m nowhere near through with you.”

Olbric’s eyes widen in surprise. He had been joking, but he agreed that the collar would stay on until morning, and I certainly don’t plan to waste the time he belongs to me. I catch his lips again and feel him quiver with anticipation. 

Arlon's words from earlier echo through my head. But now, seeing the pleasure and serenity on Olbric’s face as he looks at me makes me wonder if he’s right. Maybe I am enough. 

"Are you up for it, beautiful?" I ask.

Olbric kisses me gently, the simple contact filled with all the love and trust in the world. And it’s a thrill like no other when he murmurs a breathless little, “yes, Dom,” against my lips.


End file.
